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#not completely numb but you know like when you shake it off just beforehand
cherrychilli · 8 months
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18+
AFAB reader, soft dom Steve, spanking, fingering
A/N: A good spanking sounds more like a reward than a punishment to me.
The toll of too much responsibility weighed heavy on your slouched shoulders. Steve notices it immediately when you traipse into the living room after work. Slipping your heels and blazer off you take the hand he extends out to you, letting him tug you down to the couch to sit you sideways in his lap. He knows that it's too early to ask for the specifics just yet, circling his arms around your waist to hold you close instead. You nuzzle your cheek against the front of his sweater, seeking comfort in his warm embrace and familiar scent. The aroma of freshly printed paper had permeated your office and invaded your senses all day, a smell you now considered pungent. Needing to expunge it from your memory you nuzzle closer to Steve. He's freshly showered, eucalyptus and spearmint lingering on his skin as you readily inhale the scent through the soft cotton, mind going pleasantly foggy.
"Want me to run you a bath?", he offers, kissing you softly on the forehead. HIs voice is mild. Peaceful and full of concern. A dulcet sound that lulled you, completely unlike what had made your head throb for the past 8 hours at your desk. Blaring ringtones, shrill copiers, acid tongued supervisors, colleagues who stapled things too frequently and louder than necessary. You're too fatigued to find your own voice and answer him, shaking your head as the cotton brushes gently against your cheek. "Feeling up to eating something?", he tries again only to receive another weary shake of your head. "Just wanna sit here for a while?", there's a pause from you this time and he thinks he might have landed on the right suggestion when another soft shake of your head tells him otherwise. "Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you, angel. Anything", he cups the side your face, rubbing his thumb over the apple of your cheek.
There was something.
You'd been thinking of it all the while during your commute home. Tilting your head up at him, eyes a little glazed and more than a little dreamy, you spoke.
" 'Want you to spank me".
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Steve wasn't shaken by your request. He'd become familiar with how you sometimes liked to release all that tension that had nowhere else to go. He'd done it enough times for it to be another one of those things between the two of you that needed no explanation.
He understood that you needed that bite. That sharp, swift strike. A good kind of hurt. That's how you put it when you asked him for it the very first time on a day that had been just as taxing as today. The kind of hurt that could displace all your thoughts, numbing the sting of your long arduous day and leave imprints of something better behind. You had worried that it made no sense and he told you that it didn't need to. As long a it helped, as long as it was what you needed, he promised to give it to you and he had kept his word.
You laid over his lap, pencil skirt pulled up to your waist to bare your ass, fingers curled around the edges of a cushion he'd handed you to rest your cheek on. He glides his hand over your exposed skin first, tracing the waistband of your thong with his pinky as your eyes slipped shut. You had a safe word tucked and ready at the back of your mind just incase. Another one of the several things the two of you had discussed beforehand. Like where you wanted to be touched and how.
The first hit lands on your left cheek, not the spot and little shy of the amount of pressure you liked best but that's only because he's following what you had asked for.
Start a little high, not too hard- just enough, and when you get lower- just above where my thigh begins, that's when I need you to make it hurt.
You sigh, a contented sound as his hand glides over the impact point. He repeats the processes on the right cheek before returning to the left and then once again on the right- two hits on each cheek. The warm up's over now and the weight of how much you want the real thing is heavy in your belly. You can feel it manifest in the way that your skin had begun to tingle, heating up with all the blood rushing to the surface, leaving you feeling more sensitive to the touch. "Steve", you whimper urgently, an unsaid meaning behind it only he can decipher. "I know, baby. I'm going to start now, okay?", he coos down at you, waiting for to give him the go-ahead. "Please".
Your nails scratch at the plush cushion when his rough palm makes contact with the part you'd specified was your favorite, harder than before and better than the first four hits. Exactly how you liked. You release a shaky breath, toes curling, a hushed, needy sigh leaving your lips. "Yes". The next hit lands on the opposite cheek, sharp and swift with a resounding smack. You cry out this time and he's quick to give you another on the same spot, surprising you. You liked it best when he caught you off guard like this. Another thing you'd mentioned during your talk on do's and don'ts.
"Baby, baby...", he smooths his palm over the hot skin, condescending lilt to his tone and the slightest bit foreboding but it's all part of what you've asked for. Not that he considered any of it to be a chore. "Feeling better already, huh? good. I want that pretty little head empty, understand?". You nod quickly and a little dumbly, going pliant in his lap. The soft lace of your underwear is beginning to feel tacky between your legs and you're sure he's noticed it too, choosing to neglect the need pooling there for the time being. "Forget everything and let me take care of you", he pinches lightly at your abused flesh, the corner of his lips twitching upwards when you moan at the new sensation. "Just keep making those noises for me and I'll treat you right".
You couldn't have held them back if you tried. Mewling and sobbing in his lap, each hit helping you release all that was pent up inside you. Your legs spread wider, a stray slap or two landing on your sticky inner thighs to make you squeal and spasm. "Shit, baby. You need me here too, don't you?", he presses his thumb over your hole through your damp underwear. "Gonna play with your pretty cunt- give my girl something to really cry about". With one hand over your hip to keep you still, he uses the other to snap the waistband of your thong, peeling the ruined garment off your body.
Your ass burns from all the necessary roughness as you rest your cheek on the damp cushion, wet with your tears. "Steve...", another urgent whimper just before he pushes two fingers inside you, hooking them up to drag along your hot, wet walls in quick successive pumps. It's so sudden, so fast, so hard- you're wailing out his name, one of your hands shooting back to squeeze your fingers over his thigh, holding on as your body begins to writhe. "That's it, sweetheart...cry for me baby- want you to let it all out like a good girl". You can feel his cock through his sweatpants, hard and throbbing on your hip as your legs twitch and kick. It feels like you're falling in slow motion, orgasm building with a lazy roll at the base of your spine, travelling higher and higher until he catches on your sweet spot and it bursts into flame and color inside you. The scream you let out is only partially muffled by the damp cushion when you shove your face into it, body bucking and quivering with each wave.
You're so wrapped up in your own climax to notice Steve's pace stutter, still hitting that spot for you, albeit a little messily now. He slows it down when your writhing begins to subside, carefully pulling the soaked digits out of you as he rubs your back with his other hand. "Fuck- you did so well, honey", he heaves a sated sigh and you realize now that the dampness you're sensing on your hip means that he came too. Still feeling a little wobbly and light, you manage to pull yourself up and maneuver yourself back onto his lap. "Thank you, Stevie", wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him gratefully on the cheek. The come down brings a second wash of relief, both of you spent and satisfied in each others arms. "How about I run that bath for us, huh? and call in an order for your favorite if you're hungry?", he gives you a light squeeze to make sure you haven't dozed off before washing up. You meet his adoring gaze as you look up from where you're resting your temple against his shoulder. The answer was 'yes'. You longed for a shower and some food but you smiled back and shared something more important instead. "I love you".
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wifeyifey · 1 year
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Hi, um, hope I ain't bothering you but... I had a bad morning to say the least. Can you possibly write Deathslinger, Wraith, Doctor, and Pyramid Head comforting/hugging reader s/o who's been remembering bad memories about their mentally/emotionally abusive mom? Just... You can ignore this if you don't wanna write it...
You're not bothering me at all. I totally get it and I hope you feel better! I too have many mornings like that so just know you aren't alone my friend. I may have self-projected some of my mommy issues in this tbh. I know that it's hard so just know you have more people who love and care for you <3
Dbd x gn!reader (fem!reader in Herman's, should be gn! the rest of it tho)
Description: dbd killers give comfort to their s/o.
This is angsty but it is also a comfort fic.
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Deathslinger:
You sigh as you walk around the sunny realm of your boyfriend. It has been a bad day for you, you would say. You had very little sleep the night before due to, what you like to call, the hauntings. You got up, rubbed your eyes, and headed towards the one place that gives you the most comfort and now here you were.
You went around looking for Caleb, but you sadly couldn’t find him anywhere. At this point you were going to cry. You don’t like it here and you didn’t like your life too much beforehand, but at least you have Caleb. You never talked about your life before the Entity and neither did Caleb. Sometimes you would get something small from him where he would mention his gang. Nothing more than that though. You had a family, but it wasn’t really a family was it? You scoffed at the thought and sat down in the saloon. You leaned over the bar and grabbed a glass and put just a little whiskey in it. You don’t like drinking very much… too used to seeing it take a negative effect on those around you.
You’re getting angsty. Where is Caleb? You feel your eyes burn from the build up of unreleased tears and the feeling of being overwhelmed taking over you. You get up with the glass in your hand and you’re about to throw the drink at the wall before a hand grabs your wrist and turns you around. You look at Caleb and he was already looking at you with softened, but confused eyes. “What’s wrong darlin’?” Caleb asked while grabbing the glass from your hand and setting it down on the nearby table. He wrapped his arms around you as you threw your face into his chest sniffling. 
He has never seen you so upset before and he isn’t completely sure what to do. He just let you cry it out and held you close to him. Pressing a kiss here and there on top of your head and repeating “It’s ok. I’m here. I’m here.” You didn’t realize how comforting hearing him say that to you. You look into his eyes and whisper a small “Forever?” Even though you both know the unpredictability of where you are and how the situation may change one day, he couldn’t help how innocent it sounded coming from you and replied with a small “Always.” as he gives you a small kiss on the lips.
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Wraith:
Philip knew there was something off when in the trial you were giving up easily on things. You always were a strong team player and always helped others by healing them once you got them off the hook. Philip hated how he had to hook you in his trials, but he really wanted to end this trial quickly so he can get to you. 
None of the generators were working and every survivor was gone. Except for you. His sweet love. He appeared behind you with his little jingle. He was expecting you to excitedly turn to him. However, that didn’t happen. 
You felt so numb. All the memories of your past coming up and how you just wish some part of your life was normal. Never would you have thought you’d ask for normalcy in your life. But here you are. You heard Philips jingle, but you just couldn’t shake off the feeling of dread in you. So deeply rooted inside of you. Philip could feel the sadness coming off of you in waves. Philip is so used to seeing such happiness from you. He doesn’t know how to change things. He does know, however, to comfort you. 
He sat down on the ground behind you, his legs open and his hands gently reaching out for you. When you felt his hands on your waist, you knew you would be ok as soon as you were wrapped in his arms. He pulled you in between his legs and wrapped himself tighter around you. He felt you melt into his body and made a happy grunt that you were seemingly at peace. You looked up at him and softly said, “You’re the only family I’ll ever need.” You then tucked your head under his chin and felt so much more at peace. Philip just felt all his blood rush to his face and nearly felt the sting of tears in his eyes at the sentiment of that statement.
Oh how he loves you.
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Doctor:
“Herman, I don’t see the point in this. You’re not a therapist anymore. Just crazy.” You let out a laugh at the face he gave you as he turned to look at you in his wheely chair. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that. For your sake, my flower.” he said monotonously as he gave a tiny harmless zap to your thigh. He chuckled at your little yelp and then he soothed his hand where he shocked you. “I wasn’t asking to be your therapist… I’m telling you, you need to talk to me.”
You sighed as you crossed your arms. You see that he has already taken notes on his observations of you in the past few days. You tried reading them, but his handwriting can be a little difficult to read sometimes. “I just want to know what is making you wither. You haven’t been yourself and I don’t like seeing you so glum. You are more delicate than you want to appear. Buut, you are stronger than you think as well. I’m assuming you’ve been sad because you’ve been thinking of your past life.” You looked at him, a little embarrassed, but not surprised he came to that conclusion.
“Yeah. I just don’t exactly know how to talk about it. I-... I wanted to forget about it. I’ve just been having those dreams… where they’re almost like memories. Just… not… good ones.” You say as you look down at your feet. Twisting the front of your right foot to grind the broken glass on the floor. Herman scooted his chair over to where your legs were placed between his. He looked up at you and gently cupped his hand behind your knee, thumb brushing against your kneecap. He used his other hand to grab your hand and he brought your hand to cup his face. 
“Was it about your mom?” he asked. You looked at him with almost a blank stare. The only reason he was able to ask without you explaining more was because you were his s/o before the Entity brought you both here. You were happy to be back with him, just wish it were under better circumstances here. You guys were engaged back in the day. Your ring is still on your finger. Herman loves you and understands that your mom was always hard for you to talk about. It’s been more of a problem lately because you both found out you were pregnant. Becoming a mom was something you were scared of because you didn’t want to be like your mom. Not like you’d ever let that happen. Nor would Herman for that matter. 
“Herman, do you think I’ll be a good mom?” you ask with tears running down your face. Herman stood up and cupped your face gently and wiped away your tears. “My dear. With the heart and brain you have, you will be the best mom there ever was.” He brushed his nose against your cheek. 
I guess you can’t ignore the doctor. If he says it, it must be true. You smile at him and kiss his cheekbone and instantly remember that you’ll never be your mom. You have the support system you need in Herman.
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Pyramid Head:
*pre dbd universe*
Living in Silent Hill was not the life you would’ve imagined for yourself, but with a protector and s/o like Pyramid Head, you’re at least not lonely. 
The way you met this monster of a man was due to his need to kill the worst people and monsters. He heard you. From miles away. He heard the beating of your innocent heart and the terrible one that was attacking you. He knew it was time to take you from this creature. The purity in your heart couldn't be destroyed by something so evil.  
When it happened, you were crying. You were scared you were going to be killed, but all this creature did was reach down and caress your cheek with the back of his hand. 
He picked you up with his empty arm, almost cradling you because of how massive he was. He took you to a safe place. Somewhere far away from the madness. He was your home now. He gave you safety and he was a perfect heater for the cold nights. He grabbed you things that you might need while he was out on his runs. He never let you leave. He knows the the connection your soul has to the one he took you from. Yet, he knew your soul was connecting with his in a very strong bond. 
He came home to you after an uneventful day. He leaned his giant knife against the wall and laid down on the giant nest of a bed you made when he brought you here. You came in with a glass of water and laid down next to him. You rest your head on his chest and cuddle into him. His arm wraps around you tightly and you feel like nothing else matters. You have Pyramid Head to care for you and to keep you safe. His comfort was all you needed when the days were gloomy. He obviously can’t give any verbal comfort, but the physical comfort was all you needed.
I hope you liked this my friend! Lmk what you think!
Requests are open!
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the-slasher-madame · 2 years
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I’m curious. If the slashers had a s/o like El from stranger things (has telekinetic powers) how do you think they would react if their s/o got a nose bleed, or worse, passed out?
YEEEEE AN ASKKKKK
imma do this similar to my slashers and geese. I’m gonna do the first 5 so this isn’t too too long, but just tell me if you want the rest of them <333
Also I did established relationships
Vincent Sinclair: If you had explained to him your powers and where the nosebleeds/fainting spells came from, he’d be slightly less freaked out, but still thoroughly concerned. He’s gonna have a little kit put together so that when you’re done he can properly take care of you, and he’ll scramble to find it if you used your powers to dispose of a tourist. I think Vinny would be the kind who’s like “it is what it is, I ain’t gonna question it too much, just look straight ahead” if you get what I mean, like he isn’t gonna study you. He glares at Bo every time he asks you to do it as a “party trick.” 10/10, he Cares. 
Now, if you told him about your powers by demonstrating, he would probably freak out a little lot. He’s just completely gobsmacked that you’re doing this, with your mind????? If you passed out, he might too. He’ll have 3 simultaneous heart attacks, he thinks you died. If its just bleeding, he’s still freaking out, but its only 1 heart attack <3 
Bo Sinclair: he’s gonna be like a kid in a candy store, I’m sorry. He thinks its the neatest shit ever and will beg you to do little party tricks. At first he doesn’t realize the nosebleeds are from that (though maybe you wouldn’t get one cause its literally parlor tricks?? no idea), but once he does he feels kinda bad and asks less...but doesn’t stop completely lol. He is just so fucking excited lol. If you get a heavy amount of bleeding or pass out, he’s gonna freak (especially if its the first time that happens or the first time he sees you having powers). If he didn’t know you have powers, he will go numb and into shock. He thinks your dead, and he loses his shit. If anyone was alive near him, he’d tear them apart. He cradles you and is so soft because he genuinely thought you were dead. 
Now, if he knew these were possible side effects, he’d be more prepared and still a little concerned but he can hide it better now. Either way, his aftercare for this is basically the same: he gets a rag to wipe off the blood and carries you to somewhere soft for you to recuperate. I think he’s a little softer with you most times anyways, and especially right now. 
Michael Myers: another one who I think would treat it like a party trick. I also think he’d laugh his ass off when it surprised people. Like you may not see it or hear it, but he’s shaking with his laughter and letting out little exhales. If its just a nosebleed, he doesn’t really care, he figures you can handle it yourself. I don’t think he’s gonna have a solid grasp of human anatomy, so he wouldn’t understand that a nosebleed could be a bad sign. It softens him a bit, like he might bring you a rag, but he looks at it like a scraped knee (plus he’s had plenty of nosebleeds and other injuries, and he’s a fucking impenetrable mountain, it takes a lot for him to consider it a big injury). If its a lot of blood or you pass out, he is Scaret. Predictable, he won’t show it normally, but he will pick you u p and carry you somewhere safe and do his best to help you. He’ll wipe the blood off and probably leave half of his candy stash next to you🥺
When you feel better or wake up, he’ll be a little gentler with you for a few days, especially if he didn’t know about your powers beforehand. I think he may believe in the supernatural and paranormal because he’s A) seen it, 2) IS supernatural, and C) he didn’t have a normal childhood, so he didn’t hit most of those psychological milestones, so I don’t think he would “grow out” of those beliefs like most kids do. And I think he’s definitely met Bigfoot, they go drinking together sometimes. 
Thomas Hewitt: another concerned boy. The first time the family sees you do anything, Luda Mae is gonna cross herself, Hoyt will think the devil’s finally come for him, Thomas is scared as fuck, and Monty just laughs and flips Hoyt off saying “they done found you motherfucker!!” Thomas will be good at taking care of you afterwards, wiping up you blood and insisting you rest while he gets you snacks and water. Actively hates when Hoyt tells you to use it to help with work on the farm or Monty treats you like a party trick. Luda is slightly terrified of you, but she sees how much Thomas cares and helps him take care of you. 
After the complete shock the family gets seeing you do shit with your mind, Thomas will freak out, particularly if you passed out. Like he will run to you and kneel next to you, making crooning noises and waving for Luda (she comes, however hesitantly). He will not leave your side until you wake up, and he will get misty eyed when you come to consciousness. 
Brahms Heelshire: this man-child is terrified of you. Like he will hold a cross towards you and draw a salt circle while holding a bottle of sage. He will hit every religion he can for protection lol. Once he calms down and you show him you aren’t gonna hurt him, he’ll let you explain. I think it would be a scientist that would find you at the manor, Brahms would come at him with a fire poker, you would teleki-snap the scientist’s neck, and Brahms would beat his dead corpse once you tell him everything. I think he’d be similar to Michael in that he may not understand all of the science or anatomy in question, and would do his best to care for you. He would mirror the care you show him and clean & bandage any injuries (would probably wrap your nose in bandages the first time lol). 
He will be freaking out, but in a calm way if that makes sense. He will enter Nurse Mode to take care of you, but internally he’s screaming like a newborn. Absolute panic. Would try to scold you for not telling him, or for overdoing it. While y’all are cuddling later that night he’ll whisper to you that he was scared. While I think he’d be similar to Mikey, I do think Brahms may have a slightly better grasp of the seriousness/weirdness than Mr. Myers would. Might ask questions but would also be respectful of your trauma of being treated as a science experiment. 
Finished!!! I tried lol. I need to catch up on Stranger Things Seasons 3-4. However, I have met Eddie Munson and I can’t tell if I want to kiss him or be him, we shall see. Thank y’all :DDDD
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beyondthegame · 6 months
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Dude, Football and your writing? What else could a person want? We readers stay winning honestly. If it inspires you, “You knew it still hurts underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart" for L?
By many, L Santos has been described as a media darling. They know what to say. They know when it’s the right time to say something, and on the flip side, they know when to keep quiet.
If there was one aspect of their life they wish had never made the headlines, it would be their very, very public breakup with their fiancé(e). It’s something L hasn’t been able to escape: the questions about their almost marriage to a famous athlete, the questions about how L found out they were cheated on.
Those are the questions that almost make them crack, that threatens to break through L’s calm yet guarded exterior.
But L manages. Every single time.
“Is this a date?” L asks, their hand creeping across the table to to hold yours.
You blink. “I hope so.” You should take the plunge and wrap your fingers around L, trace their tattoos with your thumb—but you hold off for a moment.
“Hope?” they ask with a smile.
“We didn’t confirm beforehand,” you admit. “Plus, this place is a bit…too fancy for just two teammates bonding.”
L nods. Their eyes flit over your surroundings. You’re completely right. The two of you are sitting in the corner of highly rated restaurant. You’ve both had these moments, where it’s only the two of you spending time together, but you’ve both caught on to the fact that you’re past the territory of being friends.
“Fine,” L murmurs with a lopsided grin, “first date it is then. Besides, I think we—“
The grin on their lips is suddenly replaced with a look of surprise, then anger, and then a grimace is visible. L isn’t looking at you, their change in mood isn’t directed at you either, but instead to the one person they hoped they wouldn’t have to see again.
They swallow hard. “We should leave.”
You’re taken aback. “What?”
“My ex is standing over there,” L mumbles with pain in their voice. “We should go before I’m on the front cover of a tabloid.”
L didn’t waste any time leaving. They upped from their seat and bolted out the door, probably bringing more attention to themselves than they’ve even realised.
The cold air hits them when the two of you are outside. L doesn’t feel like crying or screaming…in a way they just feel numb.
“L…” you murmur when you take a step towards them.
They turn around and shake their head a little. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” L breathes out.
“Doing what?”
“This!” they exclaim whilst pointing between the two of you.
That’s a pang to the heart, and it hurts a lot more than you thought it would. “Is it because you’re still in love with your ex?”
L’s brows knit together, and that’s a question that brings anger out of them. “No! God, no.” They run a hand over their curls. “We shouldn’t take this any further because we’re teammates. We play for the same club, and sooner or later a relationship between us will get messy, and—“
“Do you like me, L?” you interject, jaw clenched and eyes full of curiosity.
L sighs. “What?”
“Do you like me?”
It’s the same question L has been asking themselves for over a month. A constant battle in their head and every time their feelings for you seem to win. So the answer is obvious. But they only nod.
“Then trust me,” you say as you edge closer towards them. “Trust us. Trust the scary, romantic feeling of butterflies one last time. I won’t break your heart like they did.”
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braywashed · 3 years
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6:30am and i desperately wanna sleep for an hour and a half before i call to try and get a same day appt since they couldnt schedule me anything in advance but my fucking arm keeps going numb and it’s freaking me out
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dodo-begone · 3 years
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The Kidnapping...
(Aka in a nutshell the Yandere boys kidnap reader)
They adored you. They befriended you. They payed attention to you. All for one very important reason. They loved you. And they were quite sure you felt the same for each of them. However. There was no good way of keeping the thing they loved safe and hidden from everyone else. Something so good could be snatched away right from their finger tips. They couldn’t let that happen. Not to you. So they created a plan. A plan to keep you safe. More precisely, a plan to kidnap you.
After sometime they realized their feelings for you. The four sat down to talk about their feelings for you. Tommy confessed first, stating that he should have the reader for himself, followed by Tubbo barking back that reader and him were closer then Tommy and reader ever were. Ranboo jumped into the fight  stating that Tommy was just being a selfish child and that Tubbo was just as immature as him. Purpled knew this was a battle he had to fight in too. “I should have (y/n) for myself! They actually notice me and make me feel seen!” Purpled said. “Your just desperate for attention from someone Purpled! You’re always just giving them crap to make reader like you!” Tommy shouted at Purpled. Before they knew it the argument turned violent with Purpled trying to stab the shit out of Tommy. Just as Purpled backed Tommy into a corner ready to plunge his dagger into Tommy’s throat, Ranboo yelled “Wait! W-What if we s-shared them?” Purpled turned his head to Ranboo so fast it could give him a whiplash. Everyone in the room went silent at his comment. “That could work.” Tubbo agreed. “Fine I guess I can work with this.” Tommy grumbled. Purpled gave a silent nod signifying he agreed. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief after Purpled put his dagger into his hoodie pocket.
They finally all agreed to share you. It was better this way. This way no ones feelings were trampled on and together they’d have a better chance of keeping you safe. The next day they confessed their (platonic) love for reader. They wanted to keep you for themselves forever safe forever! After all you guys are such good friends. They could make sure you’re taken care of. You’ll have everything you could ever want. Just please stay with them. If you say yes? Great! You get to move into your new forever home with them. They’ll cut you off from the rest of the server. If anyone asks about you or tries to search the forever home? They’ll get a nice wack to the head from Purpled and wake up outside their base or home unaware of what just happened or how they ended back up here. If you want to leave, they’ll guilt trip you into staying with them. This is your home now. And they’re your best friends! Don’t you love them? Why would you ever want to leave? “Are you tired of me (y/n)? Is that what it is?” Tommy said. “Please don’t leave me alone (y/n)! You don’t hate me do you? Oh thank goodness your willing to listen, come over here and we can have a nice cuddle session! No need to focus on the outside world!” Tubbo said. “What if I forget you (y/n)? I could never forgive myself if I did (y/n). Do you want that?” Ranboo said. “You could get hurt if you leave here! Please just stay by my side and I’ll keep you safe (y/n). I won’t let a single person lay a finger on my best friend.” Purpled said. Eventually after cuddles, gifts, and kind words from the strange teenage boys. Your content (or you think your content) with living here. You’re stuck either way.
If you say no? Fine. They’ll do things the hard way. Over the next few days you’ll start to notice foot steps behind you, more random noises in your house then usual, and wherever you go somewhere you feel rather unsafe. Eventually you reach your breaking point when you come home one night to find your house’s door wide open and your kitchen window smashed. You take off in a random direction with tears streaming down your face. As your running into the distance you bump into someone. In the dark you can’t quite see who it is but whoever it was offered to take you back to their base to calm you down. As you reach their home you start to see the lights of the forever home in the distance. Entering the forever home, you finally realize who your savior is. Not only did you have one savior, you had two. Ranboo and Purpled. You didn’t care it was them in the moment. You felt to scared to be in your home alone in the moment. “Oh you poor thing! You’re shaking! Here have some tea to warm up.” Tubbo said as he handed you a cup of tea while you sat in their living room shaking like a leaf. After drinking away the entire cup of tea you started to feel tired. You didn’t feel calm or scared. You felt numb, like the world was slipping out of your grasp. The last thing you remembered before you blacked out was being picked up by Tommy and being placed somewhere warm.
You’re their beloved best friend. They could never let you go. Even if you try to escape or scream how much you hate them. That won’t change anything. They just think your tired and cranky. So they’ll take you to bed for naps and cuddles instead. But honestly living with them isn’t so bad. Besides any teenage boy habits and random little things they might do that seem a little strange. They don’t try to hurt or punish you. They’re usually just overly sweet and soft towards you. When ever the boys talk to anyone in the outside world they’re usually more loud and obnoxious towards everyone. But to you, they’re as soft as cotton candy. Days could be spent with doing small to large tasks with them in the home. Or just enjoying movies together that turn into late night cuddles. Cuddle piles are the best! They don’t exactly know how to cook, but they’ll often try to cook meals for you which turn out rather interesting. Their favorite part about the process is when you compliment their food. Any compliment you give the four boys will send them over the moon. Often times they’ll try to 1-up each other all the time to see who can get the reader’s appraise over the others. It’s really cute what they’re willing to do for you.
After some time with the yan boys, you’ll start to love their company just as much they love yours. Days where they’re busy become incredibly lonely and dull in the home. So because of this reader would make small gifts for the boys while they were out. Like little flower crowns out of the flowers they brought home for you yesterday. Or writing little letters telling them how much they mean to you. Or just trying to make them some food for when they come home to you. Just little things to make them happy. When they find these things, they’re more then happy. They’re overjoyed! The fact you’d do this for them proves you think about them even when they’re not there! They couldn’t be happier! They’d wear or use anything you give them with pride. One day Purpled decided to wear a flower crown the reader made. Turns out the same day he was going to train with Punz. “So Purpled, what’s up with the flower crown? It’s not usually your sty-“ “Shh! More training less talking!” Purpled would say while dragging a confused Punz by his hood.
Although things weren’t all calm. People already suspected the boys kidnapping reader beforehand due to how they had already made such attempts in the past. We already knew that if someone made an attempt to search the home they’d be put to a stop by one of the boys. But what if none of the boys were home? Uh oh. Say if one of the caretakers of the smp(Puffy, Philza, or Sam) came to the home in another search of reader. And found them inside the house. We’d be in trouble. All I can imagine is the reader kicking or screaming to be released back home. And the the caretaker would just be like: “but we are going home? What’s the problem?” I can just see the reader being sad cause they miss the boys and know the boys miss them.
As soon as the yan boys find their bestie has been taken away. Panic. It’s panic mode baby. The four gear up in full netherite and grab any weapons necessary. Along with an extra set of netherite for reader. Tommy and Purpled scout outside. While Tubbo and Ranboo stay at the forever home just in case you come home. At a certain point while Tommy and Purpled were searching, they heard from Niki that she’d seen reader with Puffy. Tommy and Purpled were overjoyed and quickly ran back to the forever home to alert Tubbo and Ranboo of their discovery. They decided on ambush. They went to Puffy’s base ready to ambush but were completely unaware that Sam and Phil were currently taking care of reader with Puffy. So this ‘ambush’ went less then pleasant. The four went into the water stream that went down into Puffy’s underground base. Phil was about to go upstream to grab some more medicine from his base only to be greeted with four angry teens ready to tear the place down just to find reader. Phil knew exactly why they were there based on how reader had been ranting on and on about how they were going to come and save them or something. Tommy and Tubbo tried to hold off Phil as Purpled and Ranboo searched for reader. It wasn’t hard to find reader at all. Sam and Puffy were just keeping reader restrained in a small makeshift room in the west wing. Purpled and Ranboo saw Puffy and Sam by reader’s side trying to convince them they were safe and the boys wouldn’t find them here only for them to quickly stand up pulling out weapons ready to defend reader. Purpled being more experienced in combat than Ranboo instructed he help reader while he took on Puffy and Sam. 2 against one wasn’t easy due to the fact that Puffy and Sam were strong fighters too. However Ranboo was quick to follow orders. Ranboo in a hurry took off reader’s restraints and handed them a full set of netherite armor. Both hurried to assist the now cornered Purpled. Reader took a running start launching themselves onto Puffy. Due to the unexpected weight, Puffy went tumbling down knocking Sam down with her in the process. With reader now saved, the three ran out into main area of the under ground base to find Tommy and Tubbo still battling with the Angel of Death. Tommy and Tubbo noticed Reader and they all headed for the water stream up. Finally after a long day of fighting and searching for reader they had them home safe again. The long day had the five tired. They all laid down near the fireplace for some late night cuddles.
Yay! Good list/story? I don’t know. This kinda turned into a strange story at the end lol. I hope you liked this either way. This was just something I made while being sick. So your welcome I guess Dodo :D Apparently I wasn’t done with kidnapping head cannons after that one alien-purpled thing. Either way. Good day. -Toma can anon 🥫
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First off, Toma I’m so sorry that I took ages to answer this. Second off- FUCKING POP OFF MAN THIS WAS SO FUCKING GOOD HOLY SHIT. I McLove it.
Okay so I won’t be writing too much of a commentary on this- I want ppl to enjoy this masterpiece in their own plus anxiety but let’s not talk about that. Anyways beyond the cut is my commentary- so tw for jokes and all of the stuff from above.
KSJDJDJD PURPLED PULLED THE QUIET KID MOVE- lmao Purpled the Quiet Kid tm. It just reminds me of that one fucking meme: “I wanna kill you and destroy you. I want you died. #scene #anger #fuck #die #hatred”.
Can we just mention that the bonking ppl on the head and them appearing at their homes confused and shit is literally just the despawn system in mc. Like right on par- that’s the literal version of it and that’s how I’m seeing it and I’m fucking cackling at the idea of it-
OKAY LEMMIE GET ANGSTY!!! WHAT IF- What if, when the boys start getting so busy that you practically don’t see them anymore. Eventually you leave to either find them or just leave the house (for company or freedom). You feel that they don’t like you anymore. That you were just a bother. No wonder they haven’t come back. The withering alium flower crown in your hands was a somber reminder of the better times that weren’t so long ago.
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ayamturd · 3 years
Text
promises│nihachu
summary: in any given situation or matter, promises are sacred in any relationship one should hold. 
prompt: “Promise you won’t let go?” “I promise.”
warnings: fluff and major angst, death and warfare descriptions, slight dsmp spoilers
pairing: in-game romantic!nihachu
a/n: this is my entry for @quackisinnit’s 1k writing event!! huge congratulatory once again for their achievement and amazing writing (go read their stuff, it’s incredible) <3
wc: (1.6k) - m.list
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“Y/n! Slow down, will you!” 
You giggled to Niki’s panic and only sped through the tall grass faster. The world was a blur as you pulled her through the empty, dry field. Every branch of wheat tickled your face as they grazed your sides, yet you could care less as you both ran with little care in the world. 
“But how will we get there faster then?” You glanced back at her with an assured smirk without breaking your pace. Her eyes, while wide with concern, opposed her careless smile. She chuckled loudly at your words, the beautiful sound of her laugher prompting your own as you began climbing a small hill. 
“Only a little further, come on.” Your hand gripped her own gently, and she only squeezed your palm in response. 
As you reached the high ground, you both paused briefly to gather your breaths before you began pulling her again. “I hope this will be worth all the anticipation. You still haven’t told me what you wanted to show me.” 
The line of trees became more evident as you approached them. Entering the forest cautiously, the overhead branches shielded the bright sunlight, only speckles of light breaking through the leaves as they casted over you. 
“Well it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now would it.” Niki let out a small whine of your name, jogging slightly to meet your footing. 
The forest became evidently thicker with every stride, the overgrown roots of the trees tripping up Niki’s feet as she couldn’t see as clearly. She began to slow significantly in fear of the unfamiliar environment, the dark trunks, all of various sizes, almost taunting her with the possibility of something jumping out at her. 
While your presence was comforting, she couldn’t hide how naturally scared she was to continue forward. 
Noting her anxiety, you stopped completely to check on her, though her eyes were anywhere but your own; she was surveying the surrounding and the inability to see anything beyond a certain distance.
With a tender touch, you called her name more softly and pulled her face to your own. “We can head back if you’re uncomfortable love, but it’s just past this grove, I swear.” 
Niki relished in your touch and leaned into your hold, the warmth of your palm compelling and inviting against her cheek. She nodded ever so briefly, but you did not want to push her past what she was comfortable with due to your own excitement. 
“Speak with me now, love. I won’t force you if you don’t want to, it’s nothing of greater importance to your feelings.” 
Head still bowed down, Niki opened her eyes while lifting your still clasped hands to her lips. She kissed your knuckles endearingly before raising her head more confidently, your concern for her well being driving her emotionally.
“I’ll be alright, darling, thank you.” You leaned closer to exchange a kiss, a light feathery peck to her plush lips, and rested your forehead against her’s. 
Eyes closed, you merely whispered into her skin, “are you certain? You know I could never fault you if so.” 
Niki pulled away, causing your eyes to open at the lack of contact, and gave you a beautiful grin as reassurance. “I am, y/n, I promise.” 
While you smiled brightly, she paused before turning away, almost embarrassed to ask her next question. “Just… just promise you won’t let go?” 
Your airy chuckle made her head snap up to you, afraid of the connotations it held; however, she instead was met with your brilliant, crinkled eyes. They were intense, full of love and adoration that could make her blush widely from the simple gaze, and spoke more words than you could ever relay. 
Moving your hand to the back of her neck, you slowly bent down to kiss her again. It was more intense than before, the passion you displayed shared as Niki grabbed the wrist you held with while her other hand cupped your cheek securely. 
Eventually, you needed air and forced your lips off her hesitantly. Heavy breaths pervaded the forest landscape, and you both panted from the impenetrable emotions you carried. You held a lopsided grin from the kiss, the tired pull of your lips matching her own. 
“I promise, darling. I’ll always have you.”
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“Y/n!” 
The sky was dark, fire raging from below and engulfing the space completely. Destruction rained down in the aftermath of the battle, ash and debris scattered everywhere. The smoke was blinding, the stinging film it produced bringing tears to the eyes of all while tainting the air, making it hard to breath or move within the encapsulated scenery. 
It was ringing. The silence was almost deafening after the deathly explosions and sounds that imploded moments before. One could barely hear themself think from the loud buzz or harsh stillness, the contrast more painful to the noise when originally casted in face of what was left to scrape and reforge. 
“Y/n, hold on!” 
Those injured or lost were left casted amongst the destruction of the once beautiful, vast land. Nothing could be said to the devastation that laid waste around them, yet the heartache most suffered was excruciating to the failure of a promise their home once carried. 
While some had fled or currently carried themselves strong against the opposing, ‘god-like’ force that demanded for blood, two loves were still fighting for the purpose of staying together. 
“Y/n! I have you, I have you, ju一 just hang on!” 
Niki’s face was stained with dirt and grime, yet it did nothing to hide the pain she held in her eyes. She was crying, the smoke in her eyes, while harsh and searing, incomparable to the agony she felt while holding you. 
“Niki, I’m so scared.” 
You were hanging over a massive crater, your feet danglingly helplessly in the open air as the wind pulled at your weight. Niki gripped your arm with her entire being, the wounds she had meaning nothing to the turmoil of emotions that raged at the sight of seeing you scared beyond admission. 
Her expression was determined, despite the tear stains that marked her face so vastly to the filth that stained her cheeks. She grunted, loosing her footing momentarily before pulling you slightly up again. In spite of all her efforts, she was too weak and exhausted from the fighting beforehand, body unable to carry the same passion she emulated in thought. 
“Niki.” Her eyes were tight from her current endeavor, and she shook her head at your voice. 
“It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay, we’re going to be okay.” Her hands were shaking from your weight, yet she refused to break her grip.
“Niki, please look at me.” Blinking roughly to rid the salty tears, Niki let out a sob from meeting your own tears as well. You were in immense pain, and the fear that overtook was numbing to the point that you couldn’t put up a front any longer. 
“I love you, Niki. I love you so much.” With a shake of her head, more tears ran down her face from the revelation. She pulled harder on your arm. 
“Don’t do that, don’t say it like that.” You tried to smile and bring her comfort from the situation, but in truth you were too drained; the smile you tried for was only an empty shell to the joy it once held. 
“Niki, it’s alright, its o一”
Suddenly, more explosions shattered the still landscape once more. The war was not over and the crack of the already broken terrain collapse further beneath itself. 
Dust clouded your vision and the panic was overwhelming, causing you to speak without thought relative to the reality you both faced.
“Niki, don’t let go, please, promise you won’t let go!” Your words were rushed and incomprehensible. Eyes wild in terror and dread, the cries that escaped you were strained and smothered over the erupting ground around you. 
Niki yelled as loud as she could against the explosions trapping you both, anguished by the matter of fact. “Yes! Yes, Y/n! I have you, I pro一“
Before the vow in vain could be voiced, a new rain of explosions were set barely a few feet behind Niki, and the earth shook violently from impact. She yelped from the unexpected attack and lost her concentration and stability, thrown back, hard, into a sunken ditch. 
Explosion after explosion followed, and she was forced to hold her head in instinct until the silence rang out once more. With a gasp, she struggled to her feet and pathetically climbed her way over the small hill, the littered waste and scrap metal tripping her in her moment of desperation. 
She fell against the edge of the hollow shaft, a look of shock in disbelief before the horror sunk in. “No…”
“No, no, no no no…” She began to mumble to herself until her words became louder. Sinking to her knees at the realization, she released a broken and cracked cry. While sound was muffled to the damage within her ears and her sight was obscured by her teary eyes, the pain and heartbreak she felt was everything and the only thing she recognized then and there.
She cried and she cried, and no matter how much it hurt, she could never stop from the pain that would consume her without her new found sorrow.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Slowly, she laid her head against the ground and clenched her eyes shut, gripping her fists close into herself for she no longer had someone to hold her safe. 
“I’m so sorry.”
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sagetsukimura · 3 years
Text
Dropping a Naruto drabble here, completely unedited for anything approaching coherence or clarity, because I doubt I'll ever actually do anything with it. Spelling errors abound, and I have. It been in this fandom in so long pleas forgive mistakes! Head cannons involved include...
Hinata Hyuga did not go quietly
Hinata Hyuga suffered nerve damage from electrical ninjutsu when she was kidnapped
This had lasting effects such as muscle weakness, trembling, numbness, and confusion
Her father does love her but is very, very bad at showing it and forgets that's positive affirmation is important to teaching
Politics are bullshit (how do page breaks?!)
Here's a secret only a dead man knew; Hinata Hyuga did not go quietly.
When they took her, when she realized what was happening, she was not quiet. She screamed. She yelled and threatened and howled until a painful blow sent her spinning into unconsciousness. A capable abductor knows to prepare silencing seals beforehand.
She screeched when she woke the next time, shoved in a corner of a dilapidated shed as her abductor peaked threw the cracks in the wooden walls, hiding from the search. He'd whipped around and hit her so hard she'd lost a tooth. She'd kept screaming.
He didn't hit her after that. It was the lightning instead.
She was uncouncous again when her uncle found them. Her shouts had done little good. When she woke the temors and stutters came with, and always, always, the feeling of a hand over her mouth and burning pain in her bones as someone said, over and over, 'stay QUIET'
She didn't feel safe after that. For a little while it seemed ok, everyone was very patient and kind. But eventually even that ran out. She took to long to recover from the 'scare'. It 'destroyed' her, 'look how frightened she is ot everything, she's trembling like a leaf!'
She shook so often, fumbled kunai with numb fingers, and stuttered, always stuttered. Frustration turned to contempt. Clan elders turned their hard eyes away to focus on her sister. Hinata was too fragile to be of any use, too terrible at speaking to act as any reputable kind of clan figure.
Father remained distant. He did not lighten her load any either. He only told her to try again, to get up. The last time was not good enough, she was to do better come the next. He did not, however, call her pathetic. He did not remove her status as heir. He did not coldly suggest she look into the more civilian directed aspects of clan relations, because surely she would be better suited? She may struggle to hold a kunai steady, but it still feels more right than any pen ever could. The leader of a Shinobi clan must be a Shinobi. In the days where the frustration boils away her patients and exhausted she imagines cutting off a kumo ninjas fingers. She is kind, she is not passive, she did not go quietly-
Some nights, when she was feigning sleep (it never came easily, always light, always watching, waiting, for rough hands and hard strikes) her father would come by late at night, after all his meetings, and stand in the doorway. Once, she swore she heard him half whisper, half pray. 'you are stronger than you think'
Father does not share her medical records. He does not let the elders know about the nerve damage. They will demand her removal, claim her too week. So she is pushed. Possible too far. And often. Her baths are tested with special salts and half her 'therapy' sessions are careful medics attempting to slowly, so slowly, repair her burn out nerves in a more physical way. Eventually, claims that her mental state is too fragile put an end to even that. She is all but on her own, except for the physical therapy her aunt gives her, played off as extra training in flexibility and dexterity.
Her father does not pull her back a year in class. He does not let her sit inside on the days when her nerves decide to quit functioning properly. He does not do a lot of things. Hinata spends most of her free time walking the street of konoha, because he refuses to 'have a recluse as a daughter'.
'you are capable of better' he says, when she cannot best Hanabi in a spar. 'i expect some kind of improvement by next week's session'. It hurts and makes her wish she could curl up and die some days. When she grows she holds the words close. He is not perfect, but he is her father; at the time they felt like judgement. She did not know her father well, he was always away for work, always speaking to important people, while she trailed behind and focused on keeping her legs straight. After the exams she gets to see him outside of training, learns to understand. He believed in her when it felt like no one did. He apologizes for a lot.
Once, when she is 14, he enters the kitchen looking very satied and a little embarrassed, and shows her a book he's been reading. 'on teaching and improvement'. Hed forgotten about positive feedback, he said. Hed forgotten to tell her good job after she did improve, because she had. Because she really was strong, and he hoped that she could forgive him because 'the book says that the lack of positive affirmation can have a negative impact on a student's self-esteem, and-'
She just hugs him tight and revels in the knowledge he did not think her lesser. She also tells him, very kindly, that next time h just needs to do better.
Kurenai-sensei is the one to drag her to Tsunade, when the tingles in her fingers no longer slowly improve as they had been. Thenew therapy her damaged nerves are given changes everything.
She's learned a lot by then. Silence can be loud, and greatness can be quiet. She works hard, and though she is not the genius her cousin is she is capable and strong. She is smart, and she has learned how to breathe again. Her tongue still gets fuzzy, but her fingers are clever, and the near suicidal determination that had dragged her through years of training, drove her too far during that first chunin exam, it bears fruit when she is 15.
She learns many a battle cry, and burns away the memories that might her chest go tight, and decides, as once again invaders enter her home, that she will not go quietly this time either.
Her hands do not shake.
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imaginedxlan · 3 years
Text
Ghost of You (Luke Patterson)
a/n: I’m really taking the multifandom thing to the extreme huh? Well this is my #first julie and the phantoms imagine because that show is so gas. Also ghost of you by 5sos is also gas and it made me cry to think of this song and the boys so i just had to do something.
25 years ago, y/n was dating the frontman of the band Sunset Curve, Luke Patterson. Now, a quarter of a century after his untimely death, she sees what she can only assume to be his ghost in a new band and is reminded of the days when she loved him and how she processed his death at only seventeen.
y/d/n = your daughter’s name
Warnings: death, depression
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_____________________
It’s a Saturday morning when your daughter comes running in to show you some YouTube video on her iPad. You can’t really understand what she’s saying, just things like holograph, hot boy and band. When she finally calms down and presses play on the video you see a young girl, no older than fifteen, singing with a beautiful voice. Your daughter has never really been one to show you random videos, not that this girl wasn’t a good singer, but you’re confused as to why she would have taken the time to run from her room to show you this video.
Then you see it. Just as the chorus of the song begins to play, a band appears around her, full equipment flashes in completely out of nowhere. There he is. You can’t believe your eyes. As your daughter begins to point out the boy wish the shaggy brown hair and glowing smile and how ‘hot he is’ you feel nauseous. Luke Patterson, front man of Sunset Curve and your deceased boyfriend.
“Turn that off, y/d/n.” You say sternly as your mind begins to cloud. This had to be some sort of dream, or nightmare. Seeing Luke’s face after so long, feeling like you had been transported right back to 1995, it was all too much. You had tried so hard to move on, to heal from the sudden loss of him, but seeing him like this brought back the hurt all over again.
“Mom? Are you alright?” Your daughter asks, still not pausing the video. “It’s just a video, I don’t understand.”
“I said turn it off!” You never meant to sound so harsh, but the queesy feeling in your stomach only worsens the more you hear the rasp in his voice, so clear compared to the only CDs you’d kept throughout the years. “I need to go lay down.”
July 30, 1995
This worst day of your life, standing next to your parents and his as you struggle for a breath. Only eight days have past since the fateful night that was supposed to be your boyfriends big break but ended up taking his life. Your arms are folded tightly in front of you as you attempt to stop the endless stream of sobs rolling from your lips. Staring at his casket, side by side with Alex and Reggie’s, made you feel sicker than any flu you’d every caught. The pastor walks ahead of the crowd in front of the three wooden boxes that held your very best friends.
“My friends, we are gathered here today for a number reasons. First, we are here to pay our tribute to three young men, all full of talent and promise, who have been taken from this earth far too soon. Reginald Peters, Luke Patterson, and Alexander Mercer.” When he calls the names of the boys, you only cry harder into your fathers shoulder. Only seventeen years old and you had already suffered the worst loss you could ever imagine. “We are also here to comfort the families of these boys along with their loved ones. Not only have we sensed our own personal feelings of loss over Reggie, Luke, and Alex’s passing, but our hearts have been drawn toward them, and will continue to be with them. We are here to seek comfort, as our hearts ache over this inconceivable loss, and we hope that these young men will find eternal rest, wherever they may be.”
With your heart heavy, so say your final goodbye to the boy you love most in this world. Placing a hand on his casket, the tears do not stop rolling down your cheeks. You feel a hand grip your shoulder and turn to see Mrs. Patterson, her eyes red and heavy like yours. You embrace the woman and cry into each other for a while, unable to break from the closest person to Luke. You hold her hand, his father on the other side of her, as they lower him into the ground. You replay the last moment you spent with him in your mind, wishing him luck before they went for those stupid fucking hotdogs before the show, telling him you’d be cheering him on from the wings. The Orpheum was their dream and they never got to play it.
You couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling of loss, not that you were expected to. The weeks you spent laying in your bed, staring at the Sunset Curve posters and polaroids from concerts and rehearsals on your walls, turned to months. You didn’t cry, there were no more tears left in your body. Those photos are all you have left of him, that and their CD that played on repeat all day and night. Your parents were probably sick of it by now but they didn’t dare come in to tell you to turn it off. They did come in to tell you when dinner was ready and ask if you wanted to see any of the countless friends that came to comfort you. They would sit on your bed, listening to the voice of your now dead boyfriend and cry with you. They try to get you to leave the house, come with them on a walk or get breakfast at your favorite diner but it was no use. Any place you go will bring up a memory you have when Luke was there with you, smiling that bright shiny smile of his.
You eventually did go outside, having to start and finish out your senior year without him. No homecoming, no prom, no graduation. The school held memorials for the boys, they hung portraits and painted murals but it just made you more numb to the feelinh when you saw his face. Nothing made you happy anymore, you put on a face to keep your friends, parents and newly appointed grief counsellor from forcing any pills down your throat to fix the chemical imbalance that came from losing the only light on your life. They called it complicated grief, it was persistent and crippling, but you refused to take any pharmaceuticals. You feel semi-responsible for not being there to tell him hotdogs from the back of a car was a bad idea, you feel like you have to sit with this ever present sinking feeling. You spend Luke’s birthday with his parents every year, remembering the last birthday you spent with him and trying your hardest to smile at the memory of the boys smashing his cake into his face at some random stop on tour, but you can’t.
Present Day
You find the video that your daughter showed you earlier today, Julie and the Phantoms they were called. You had pulled the shoe box out of your closet, the one filled with concert t-shirts, polaroid’s and posters from the best days of your life and went through them for the first time in a long time. Your husband knew Luke, he went to your high school and then college. He knew what his death did to you and he understood that Luke Patterson will always have a piece of your heart. He doesn’t mind, he supports you on the hard days, his birthday and the anniversary of his death, and he pushes you to grow and heal from the pain. You needed someone like him in your life, he was good.
“We buried you.” You whisper as your finger comes into contact with the screen, staring at the face of the seventeen year old boy you lost in 1995. Your daughter explained it was a hologram, that the girl who was singing had programmed them into her stage, but you watched every single Sunset Curve performance and it looked nothing like any one you ever saw. You were staring at the ghost of him. Your hand reached for your favorite polaroid picture of him, all sweaty and gross after a show with the biggest smile on his face. “We buried you, Luke.”
Your husband had already seen the video by the time he came home from work. He held you while you cried, swearing he was a ghost. He told you over and over again that he was just a hologram, and you eventually stopped fighting him. Your daughter was confused, you never told her about Luke or the boys, it was just too hard. In the morning you went through the box again, this time stopping on a disposable camera photo of the two of you holding each other backstage just before a show. When you looked closer at the photo he was wearing the same blue hoodie he was wearing that night.
July 22, 1995
Sound check is only a few minutes away and you sat on a big red couch in the backstage area of The Orpheum with the boys. You were cuddled into Luke’s side, hearing his heartbeat racing at the thought of getting on stage in less than an hour.
“I can’t believe we made it,” Alex muses, fiddling with his drum sticks. “Sunset Curve, playing at the Orpheum.”
“Tell your friends.” Reggie adds, making the group laugh. “I can’t believe it either. This is going to change everything.”
Bobby nodded with the boys, so did Luke. You looked up toward him, in awe of how far they’ve come. “Hey, I’m really proud of you.”
He looks down to you and pulls you tighter into him before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Wouldn’t be here without you.”
“As if,” You roll your eyes. “I just told you Sunset Curve sounded better than Sunset Curb, and Alex was already pushing against curb.”
He just smiles, and rests his head on top of your. “We have to go soon. We’ll probably get something to eat beforehand, so I’ll see you after the show. I love you.”
“I love you more, hot shot.” You reply, lifting your head to leave a soft kiss on his lips. The boys let out a collective ew to which you respond with your middle finger, no words. “Go kill it, you know where I’ll be.”
“Don’t move!” Reggie shouts as Luke is about to get off the couch. He pulls out a camera from his backpack and brings it to his eye. “You’ll want this for the slideshow when I make my speech at your wedding.”
You and Luke roll your eyes before he brings you closer into his side, flashing his award winning smile. You hold him tight and stare up at his beautiful face when the flash of the camera goes off. He plants one more kiss on your temple before getting up.
The four boys filed out of the backstage area and onto their respective spots on stage, Luke turning around to send you one last wink before grabbing his guitar. Not even an hour later, the sound of sirens bring you the worst news you could ever fathom. They were dead, the three of them were dead and you never even got to say goodbye. You and Bobby stand shocked while the officers explain what happened, your first thought being this is some huge prank they’re playing to get their nerves out before the show. But it wasn’t. They really died that night and you’re left wondering what you could’ve done different so he would still be here. So Reggie could have actually made a speech at your wedding, what you could have done to build a life with him instead of losing him at seventeen. 
Present Day
You spend a long time deciding what will make you feel okay after this. You had spent years avoiding every aspect of life that would remind you of your lost love, but now his ghost, or hologram, is an internet sensation. While it broke your heart to see him again, doing the thing he loved most in this world, it forced you to look back on your time with him, to look through all the memories you made with him and you were grateful for that. You find that the young girl, Julie, goes to school with your daughter. You decide that direct contact between a fifteen year old and a forty-two year old stranger would be far out of your comfort zone. Settling on a letter that your daughter will pass along to her, you sit down to write.
Dear Julie,
      My name is Y/n, I’m y/d/n’s mom. This may seem a little odd that  your classmate’s mother is writing you a note, but I have to thank you for something. In 1995, I lost someone very special to me, a few people actually. They were in a band called Sunset Curve, maybe you’ve heard of them. Y/d/n showed me your performance, all I can say is wow. You are an extraordinarily talented girl, not only musically but your holograms are awe-striking. When I saw the figure of my late friends come on to screen, you have no idea what kind of joy that brought me, to watch them perform again. I was with them that night, the night of The Orpheum. They were one step closer to stardom before it all ended, if they were able to see that your music was bringing them back to life I’m sure they would be shouting and carrying on like they always did. You allowed me to get one last chance to see them perform, something I always wished I could see. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I’m not sure how you managed to create them and bring them into your show, but however you did it you brought some peace back into my life. After watching your video, I was finally able to face the past, something I have been struggling with for years. If you ever had any questions about the boys or want to see some memorabilia I’ve kept all these years, feel free to reach out. Again Julie, you don’t know what your video gave me, I am forever grateful for you and your technological skills. I hope success finds you, thats all Sunset Curve could have ever dreamed of.
Best Wishes,                                                                                                      Y/N
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sourbat · 3 years
Text
A Missed Call
Because you can never have enough magtok, here’s an old one shot I wrote some time back for the holidays, but never got to releasing.
Summary: After a rough morning and bad rehearsal, Toki retreats and listens to an old, missed call saved on his dethphone.
Pair: Toki and Magnus
Rating: T
Read on Ao3 or click read more below!
Following a long night of painting a recently completed figurine, Toki woke up late on the morning of a planned recording session, one he had practiced for beforehand. Toki checked the time, panicked and hurriedly put on some clothes, skipped the shower, and rushed to the upper levels and kitchen to grab some fruit as a quick and easy breakfast. On his way to rehearsal, he got woozy and had to double back retrieve his insulin. When Toki finally arrived, everyone was already in a foul mood. Knubbler mentioned losing two saved recordings, and apparently Murderface raised a fit about it. No one entertained his tardiness, and Toki could tell that patience was wearing thin, but still insisted he get some recordings in to show his dedication to the band.
Since he left his guitar behind in his room, Skwisgaar tentatively offered one of his own, lips pursed and brows sinking while Toki readjusted the harness, tightened a string. It seemed every small action he performed while scrambling to the tinier recording room earned the ire of his lead guitarist, and when they settled, Toki sensed the increasing weight of the atmosphere, the building gravity and high expectations that few could reach.
He couldn’t concentrate. Not with Skwisgaar frowning at him, eyes stained with contempt,  arms crossed tightly to his chest and fingers rapidly tapping the correct rhythm across his rigid form.
Knubbler gave Toki permission to go, but his eyes couldn’t break from the imaginary strings rapidly coursing through Skwisgaar’s busy hands. He knew Skwisgaar was comparing their speed and overall performance. Toki saw the frown extend downwards, finding his attempt inadequate. Toki flubbed the first recording, and just four measures into his part. He messed up on the second and third try. He made it as far as the first rest, then messed up again.
Sixteen measures and another set of wrong notes later, Skwisgaar finally had had enough, and the passive remarks began. Toki couldn’t play over Skwisgaar loudly pointing out every wrong note he tried teaching. With the room filled with a never-ending tirade of “noes,” Knubbler had no choice but to stop recording. The moment he announced the news, Skwisgaar grabbed the guitar by the neck and loudly insisted through Toki’s headset that he would play the parts instead.
The news proved fatal to his esteem. Aghast, Toki pleaded with Skwisgaar to let him try one more time. He grabbed the older man by his top, but then sank and fell on his knees. Skwisgaar wouldn’t have it, nor would Knubbler who, after bringing a hand to cover the red light flaring in his optical devices, suggested an emergency fifteen-minute break.
Tensions were high as Skwisgaar exited the small room, hand clasping the guitar and swinging with a vigor that warned Pickles and Nathan to back off and keep their mouths shut. Murderface left the couch to grab some snacks, and when he returned, saw Toki inching his way to the nearest door.
“You alright, Toki?” he asked through loud chews and smacks.
Toki didn’t answer. His head sank, leaving just a nub of a neck and messy chestnut veil before he reached for the door.
Knubbler turned in his seat. “Tough luck, babe. Come back in fifteen, alright?”
“Or don’ts, nots like we’lls notice,” Skwisgaar said under his breath, earning a sharp jolt from Toki’s shoulder before he stomped out of the room.
Nathan sighed. “Skwisgaar.”  
“Dood, no need ta’ be a–”
The door shut, and at the sound of the lock clicking, Toki pressed his back into the adjoining wall. Cool stone tempered his rigid, hot spine. It pushed the heat forward,  through his chest, then spilled down his cheeks in a furious heat. Toki slid to the floor, legs retracting and arms coiled round to bring them up to his chest. He sighed and tried shutting his eyes, only to have to watch himself repeat the same mistake again, observe his clumsy fingers resting on top the wrong string, wrong fret, sloppily strumming and ending up with a nasty fuzz that only further infuriated Skwisgaar. A heaviness collected across his beet-reddened face before going limp. He buried his face between his shaking legs. He spent the next few moments in silence, head spinning and throat shut, refusing the smallest intake of air until Skwisgaar’s harsh words turned into blurry static.
The pain that swelled in his chest raged forth, climbing up his strained neck, reaching behind his eyes and sending a throb that warned Toki of an impending sob. He sucked a sharp breath, filling his chest and stomach until his belly hurt, then shuttered an uneven exhale. The anxiety whirled in his abdomen, a miniature storm that threatened to burst into a panicked state if he didn’t act quick.
Toki blinked, feeling the wet sting forming in his eyes. He released his shaking, numbing legs, letting one drop while keeping the other close for support. Head still lost in the dark fog, Toki reached for his pocket, and pulled out his phone. He wiped his face, dragged an arm across his nose and sniffed hard, sucking up the collecting moisture into his ailing throat, and went through his dethphone’s multiple applications.  
His thumb lingered over a message dating back nearly eight months. Toki sniveled over it, tongue lapping around his lips as he glanced at the time, the length of the message. Wide eyes darted to the ends of the hallway.  When he determined there were no oncoming gears, he pressed play on the screen.
The phone’s display went dark for a second, then vibrated with a rapture of noises. Toki’s bottom lips curled inward, teeth pressing on top the skin as he watched the screen come alive with shadows, the blur of a swaying phone failing to focus on a single image, and the colorful, out-of-focus city lights in the backdrop.
Then, humming. Toki instantly calmed when he heard the slow, off-tune notes, followed by the screen moving, raised up to reveal Magnus' curious face lazily staring into the screen.  “…why aren’t you answering your phone?”
The voice fuzzed as Magnus brought the screen closer, angle crooked as he leaned to one side, body lax and swaying with each step.
“Just as well. Shit.” Toki broke into a chuckle as Magnus stumbled forward. The camera toggled, pointed upwards at the sky. The first time it had happened, Toki yelped, panicked over Magnus potentially falling and breaking his neck. Now, he counted the seconds of Magnus’ extended groan, then smiled at the incoming giggle that sluggishly transitioned into a prolonged, nonsensical song.  “Dadadaaaa…”
Feeling a bit more at ease, Toki’ s second leg began to sink, and both hands fixed to the screen as he toggled the phone to its side. When he checked again, Magnus was back to a (crooked) stand, happy and quite pleased with himself not falling flat on his face. A car zoomed by in the background. The lights at the intersection turned green, and Magnus brought his tongue out to wet his drying lips.
“Leave it to the one time I figure how to use this dumb app, just my luck.” Magnus rolled his head back, messy hair whisking, flowing out of tandem with his uneven gait. He shut his eyes. “I know I said…I’m sorry I’m drunk, buddy. God, I miss you right now.”
Toki wiped his eyes, giving a short nod. “S’okay,” he whispered, letting a thumb come close to petting the drunk Magnus who’d broken his promise not to drink too much, at least now without Toki to look after him.  
Magnus stared back. Not at the light, nor the screen, but at Toki. “Hope you’re, uhh, having fun right now. Whatever you’re doing.”
Toki shook his head.
Magnus’ expression softened. “You know, I miss you,” he slurred to the phone’s receiver.  “A lot. Like, holy shit, dude. You gotta come back soon. Hit me up, even if it’s just to yell at me for breaking my promise.”
Toki sniffled as Magnus pulled away from the camera. His hand turned inward, almost as though he were trying to cradle the screen, reach and cup the face of the Toki who had failed to pick up the call several months ago. Even then, it had been hard to stay angry at him. Disappointed, sure, but Toki couldn’t stay mad at the man who went out of his way to learn how to use his Facebones-time app, call and speak from the heart.
Thinking of it, Toki glued himself to the screen, silently awaiting the next portion.
“I really miss you,” Magnus continued. He leaned against the wall of some unknown building, his sinking head still favoring a particular side. “I know you’re on tour and all, and I gotta be fucking patient but…this is going to sound so cheesy, but I miss seeing your smile.”
Just hearing the words lifted the ends of Toki’s mouth. On screen, Magnus’ expression softened, eyes blurred with sudden realization.
“I miss you telling me to stop scowling all the time, and I miss you telling me it’s ok…”
“If ams not readies to smiles yet,” Toki whispered to the screen.
“–if I don’t feel ready to smile yet.” Magnus made a face that, to this day, made Toki feel just a little anxious. What was going on in his head, he wondered. Did Magnus know what he was about to say?
He watched Magnus palm his hand over his bad eye. “Fuuuuck, what am I saying?”
“Everytinks you wants, Magnus,” Toki answered the recording. His heart picked up, anticipating the final portion of Magnus’ drunken rambling, the denouement of his accidental message, and that final push Toki needed to help him get through this miserable day.
The screen emitted hardly any sounds, producing only the subtle changes brought on by the late autumn winds, the occasional roll of a speeding car, and Magnus’ own relaxed breathing.
“You’ve probably already deleted this,” Magnus murmured to himself. Or to Toki? Hard to say. The smile he cracked was aimed at no one in particular, but each time he lifted his head, and Toki saw his long waves brush across face and reveal the longing in his eyes, he thought Magnus must have known, deep down, what he was going to say. “I’m drunk and I’m swearing and I miss you, and I love you, and the more I think about you being away for two more weeks–”
Just like that. The three words Toki had tried prying from Magnus for weeks, months, had slipped through the cracks and were uttered during a random night spent drinking alone.
“–It kills me. Shit, I shouldn’t have said that.”
Toki stroked the screen. “Ams fine, Magnus.”
“Well, that’s all. I just wanted to tell you I love you. And miss you. And as soon as you get back I want you to tell me how you got on stage and rocked the hell out of everyone’s soul. The same way you do mine whenever you… hehehehehe…ah,  shit .”
Caught between their shared laughter was Magnus stumbling forward, and like every past play through, Toki quieted down, paused the video once he remembered what Magnus had said, and rewound it just to hear it again. He obsessed over the second “I love you,” all casual and free. The “I love you” that was comfortably tucked between other facets, and said with no restraints, no second-guessing. It was a feeling he admitted to without any forethought, and spoken from the heart.
“Call me back, ok?”
Magnus’ hand covered the screen. It took him a while to accurately bring an end to the call, but while he muttered to himself, questioned and asked no one in particular how to shut off the app, Toki meandered in place, wiggling as he relived the words, Magnus voice setting free that momentous confession thought the form of a simple, missed call. It would be another two months before he whispered the words, so soft and faint, and yet somehow carrying the weight of the universe on top of it. That sober confession would be as impactful, and while Toki spent nights replaying how shy Magnus had been when he first shyly announced his love to him, nothing quite compared to the drunk Magnus who casually remarked his affections.
“Will calls you soons,” Toki said to the phone, then closed the app. He would, and he’d do everything within his power to reverse the tragic alignments set before him, and turn this shitty day into something decent and worth discussing. Skwisgaar could yell at him, but Toki would still try his best. He’d play his heart out like Magnus expected him to, and would have something to show for it once it was over.
Toki checked the time, and saw he had about five minutes left until his break ended, and another two hours before Magnus had to wake up to get ready for work.  His nerves still shook from the memory of his recent failure. Toki sighed. Eyes closed, he saw Magnus standing alone, city lights a messy blur, veiled under a heavy and tiresome drunken haze. If that man could figure out how to use his phone and video call him, cheer him on and tell him how much he cared about him, then Toki could finish a session and get his part in the demo.
He reentered the room a seconds later, warmed face hit with the thick atmosphere.
Pickles and Nathan stopped their discussion to check on him as he slowly approached. Nathan regarded Toki with a gentle nod. “You ok, Toki?”
“Ams fine, thanks for askins.” Toki waved shyly at the two. Thankfully, Skwisgaar was nowhere to be found. While it didn’t guarantee a permanent reprieve from the stress to come, it did allot Toki some additional time to prepare for the rest of his session. Remembering Magnus’ encouraging words, his drunken, cherry-red smile and airy laugh that always reached so high before cracking, Toki exhaled. He pushed out as much of his anxieties as he could, the panic that settled across his queasy belly, and he walked over to Skwisgaar’s guitar.
Pickles raised a brow, popped the gum he’d been chewing as Toki adjusted the strap, and then proceeded to the recording room.
“Hey, Toki.” Nathan interjected, still reclined comfortably in his seat, and not appearing slightly offended when Toki met his obtrusive glare with oblivious perplexity. “Where are you going?”
“To practice,” Toki answered. Charged by his response, Toki confidently turned for the smaller room. “Goinks to show Skwisgaar ams not a screws-up,” he said, voice carrying a surge of an impending storm, raw energy that filled his expanding chest with the assurance he needed to get him through the session.
As he opened the door, Magnus' voice entered his mind:
Rock the hell out of everyone’s soul.
20 notes · View notes
orange-waterfalls · 3 years
Text
Hugs From The Captain!
Captain Magnum x gn!reader
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A/N: hi. it's me. i'm not dead! which is an awful surprise considering the amount of people who WROTE MY OBITUARY yesterday, PREEMPTIVELY in case I did die. but i didn't! so suck on that.(yes this is a markiplier quote no I do not remember what video) anyways here's a soft Magnum fic with a lil angst. as a treat. after fucking MONTHS. I have been kind of experimenting? with like more banter or realistic type of dialogue. just like. lemme know if u think it's good. Rated T for cursing. Fluff and sort of angst. Uhhhh tw: self-doubt, tw: guns, tw: alcohol, tw: drugs. Reader doesn't like. Use guns. Or drink. Or do drugs. Uhhhh I think that's it enjoy!!!
Word Count: 2.8k
Hugs From The Captain!
---
“Good job, matey!” Magnum yells out when you drop a large sack of coins on the ground. You breathe heavily and your arms are shaking, but by God you carried that shit onto the ship. In the middle of a gunfight, no less!
You don't respond, preferring to hit the deck as bullets continue to fly. You cover your ears with your hands and squeeze your eyes shut tight. No matter how long you'd be on this ship, you were sure you'd never get used to this part. You don't know how long you were on the floor, but when you looked again, two other crewmates were on the floor as well and it was silent. You scramble to your feet and look around, sighing when you notice the other ship sailing away.
"Good job, Y/N!" One of your mates says loudly, still on their stomach on the floor. Ah, yes. Gunshots. Ringing in the ears. Love it.
“Thank--!” You’re cut off with a squeak as Magnum squeezes you in a giant bear hug.
“Aw, you’re doin’ fantastic! That was wonderful! I never thought I’d have such a great first mate!” He turns to another crewmate. “...no offense”
“Some taken…” he sighs and rests his cheek in his hand.
"Mag-" you can't finish before you wheeze a breath out, and the captain takes that as a sign he should put you down. He does, holding your shoulders as you sway, and brushes you off a bit.
"Apologies… I get a bit excited," he flushes.
"You're-" you clear your throat, "you're fine."
"Anywho, let's all celebrate tonight! I have some o' that fancy whiskey in me cabin!" He suggests.
"Fancy?" You croak.
"Ya know. Fancy! The bottle actually has a label on it!"
"Right… uh, sure. We can do that. Ok."
"Fantastic!" He reaches out for another hug but freezes when you flinch away. He plays it off by grabbing a rope and telling the crew what to do.
You sigh in relief. You love the guy, you do, but goddamn he is strong. Sometimes a hug is a bit too forceful. You were sure he's cracked a rib before.
You stand next to him, waiting for him to let you know what you can do, but he just smiles and sets a hand on your head.
"Ye were wonderful today. Yer arms must be tired. Ye should go rest," He explains.
"What? No, I'm fine!" You put your hands on your hips. He squints at your arms, and you look down and notice they're shaking. You let them drop.
"Mm. Go rest," he instructs and you cross your arms before sulking away to your room.
--
You lay on your bed completely still. You'd been in this position for the past 4 hours. It had gotten dark and you were sure you missed dinner.
Ok, fine, your arms hurt before.
But now you couldn't feel your body at all. Everything was completely numb. Maybe carrying a giant bag of gold coins that was nearly the same size as you wasn't the best idea.
You hear the door creak and your heartbeat speeds up but you literally do not move a single muscle.
"Mate? Y'alright?" Magnum asks. You groan in response. That was supposed to be a "yeah". He walks over to your bed and you manage to move your neck a bit to look up at him.
"I have a feelin' yer bein' dramatic." He chuckles, a deep sound that echoes through your room.
"How dare you," You whisper, your throat hoarse.
"It can't be that bad."
"Not everyone is a seven foot tall mass of muscle."
"There's a bit I'm pudge in here too, don't worry."
"Whatever."
"We're celebratin'. Ye wanna come or are ye gonna lay here for another 6 hours?"
So it was 6, not 4.
"Magnum, boss, cap, mate, I don't think I can fucking move, much less dance with you people." Because whenever there's drinking, there will be dancing. You've been here long enough to know that is a fact.
"Here, I have an idea."
"Wha--" He lifts you up like you weigh nothing and you feel your face heat up a bit. He pulls you into a bone crushing hug. Literally. You hear and feel your back crack in several places. He drops you onto your feet and, again, you sway a bit, and again, he steadies you. You stretch your limbs, sighing.
"Uh… thanks. Still don't think I can dance, though..." You scuff the floor with the toe of your boot.
"Eh, thas alright. Ye can sing, can't ye? Ye know a few shanties?" He asks.
"... a few…" You say with a smile.
"Good! I'm sure they'll love to hear ye," He gently sets a hand on your shoulder. He sets it gently on purpose. You know because he was about to slam it down with a force that would probably dislocate your shoulder, but stopped a few centimeters away and made sure to let it down soft.
"Mm. We going now?" You pat the hand on your shoulder.
"If ye want."
"Bet. Let's go."
--
After an hour or so, you had exhausted your voice and all the shanties you knew. Magnum was right, the other crewmates were very excited to hear you sing. They even chanted beforehand. As soon as they recognized the songs they joined in they joined in. They started dancing after a while, too.
You're sitting by a light in the corner, sipping your drink. They're having a lot of fun, and you can't help but smile. You feel… safety. Comfort. Affection. Love.
You love these people. This is your family. This is a group of people who you might have never known if your life had gone just a bit differently. You thanked whatever being is out there in the universe for giving you this… family. This feeling of pure joy.
You hear loud creaking towards you as Magnum approaches. You tilt your head back to look up at him behind you.
"Oi. Ye alright?" He inquires in a voice much quieter than you're used to.
"Yeah, I'm good," You say, matching his volume.
"Ye were actin' like we were goin' ta haveta saw yer arms off," He teases.
"I thought you were!" You defend jokingly.
"I'da been the one to do it."
"Woulda given me a cup of beer and said 'it's basically an anaesthetic'."
"Well, of ye drink enough…" you both chuckle. You look down at your drink and swish it around in your cup a little. You can feel him staring at you and it starts to make you uncomfortable.
"What is it?" You snap a bit on accident. He frowns. "Sorry…"
"Ye sure yer alright?" You groan loudly in annoyance.
"Yes! I am absolutely sure, 100%--"
"Tell me and I'll buy ye a treat next time we get to shore." You both stare at each other for a moment. Your arms are in midair since you were cut off from your dramatics. He had an eyebrow raised and was looking at you suspiciously. You drop your hands onto the table.
"I feel useless." You say bluntly.
"Wha? Why? Did someone say somethin'? I'll shoot them out o' me cannon right now!" Magnum panics.
"See, this is why I didn't want to tell you!" You sigh and fall back in your chair.
"Wha d' ye mean?" He furrows his eyebrows.
"There's no… nobody said anything, I just… I got a bag. One bag!"
"Aye! An' that was very--"
"Mags, they each got at least two. Some even had three. You got seven. Plus a chest."
"Ok, so we're a little… little stronger than ye, what about it?"
"I'm not… useful to you! I'm not as strong, I'm not good in a gunfight, I can barely talk my way out of anything--"
"Ye talked John out of his potatoes."
"I thought his name was Jack?"
"Eh, he-he never corrects anyone. I called him James the other day and nothin'."
"Huh. But that doesn't count. I know him."
"Ye are useful, and even if ye weren't, yer a valuable… valuable? Yea, valuable member of this crew. I haven't seen 'em dance this much in months. I haven't smiled this much in months. Ye are a very important part of me ship. Crew. Me crew."
"...Mags, are you drunk?"
"Not the point. Wha I'm sayin' is we love ye and now we're attached and ye can never leave."
"Ah, I see. C'mon. Bedtime," You stood up and walked over to Magnum, putting a gentle hand on his arm. He squints at it.
"No," He looks up at you.
"Mags…" You warn.
"No," He crosses his arms and leans back.
"Magnum," You cross your arms. Is he really doing this right now?
"Call me captain," He smiles brightly.
"...I'm not doing that," You can't help but smile back.
"Please?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Why do you want me to?"
"I like it."
"Ok, Mr. authority complex."
"Stop psychoal… psychoan… psy--"
"Psychoanalyzing."
"Yeah that."
"Only if you get to bed."
"...bah."
"Bah, yourself. Stand up."
"I'm a lil tipsy, it's fine." He says, swaying a little. You put your hand back on his arm and he stares at it as you lead him to his cabin.
"You'll thank me in the morning when everyone has a pounding hangover and you just have a headache." You pat his arm.
"Mm. Mate?" He asks, still staring at your hand.
"Yeah, Mags?" You open his door and let him walk in. He looks at you standing in the doorway with this… weirdly soft look on his face.
"...I love ye." He whispers. Ok, that was way too quiet and a very uncharacteristic thing to say.
"Love you too. You're drunk." You repeat.
"I know. I still love ye."
"Thank you. Go to sleep."
"Cuddle?"
"No, you smell like whiskey."
"Please?"
"No. Love you. Go to sleep."
"G'night."
"Night."
--
"Morning, everyone." You smile over your cup at the tired and annoyed faces that walk through the door. Some mumble a "good morning" back, some only give you a wave, some straight up ignore you. Magnum walks in, visibly doing better than the others, and makes his way to you.
"Uh…" He scratches his beard.
"Hm. Let me guess…" you tap your chin with a finger and raise your eyebrows.
"...thank you." He sighs.
"Called it," You tilt your seat back and put your feet on the table.
"Yeah, yeah…" He grumbles.
“Sleep well?” You sip your drink.
“Eh… yeah…” He says after a couple seconds.
“That’s a hesitation I hear,” You raise an eyebrow.
“Mm… dream was a… a little bad…” He sits in a chair across from you.
“Bad? Bad how?” You tilt your head, and the look he gives you isn’t a very good one.
“Eh, jus’… jus’… mm…”
“Don’t wanna talk?”
“Not… really…”
“Ok. Coffee?”
"Aye." You stand up and get another cup of coffee with a little bit of sugar and some whiskey and hand it to him.
"... sugar 'n whiskey…" he says, surprised for some reason.
"Yeah. You like it that way, right?" You ask, worried you'd gotten it wrong.
"Aye, aye I do…"
"...is something wrong?"
"...no. Nothin'."
"You… sure?"
"Aye."
"Ok… I'm gonna… go see if the others want anything." He nods as you walk away.
That was. Very weird.
You shake your head and walked up to John. James. Whatever.
"Mornin'... Joseph." You say experimentally.
"Mornin', Y/N." He smiles. So, he just answers to anything. Great.
"Need anything? Coffee? Food? Drugs?"
"Why would we need drugs?" Another mate asks.
"For your hangovers, duh." You clap your hand on Jim's (Jake's?) shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll spike your drinks." They all thank you at different energy levels as you leave to get their individual cups of coffee. You feel someone staring at you and turn to see Magnum gazing at you from his seat. He clears his throat and turns away once you see him. You sigh and distribute the cups among the crewmembers. One of them stares at you as you hand them a cup.
"What?" You ask defensively.
"He's in love with you." She comments.
"Yeah, I know…" you sigh and sit down at her table.
"You know? What do you mean you know?!"
"I mean, I know!"
"Do you like him back?"
"That's a difficult question."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I love him a lot but he's a greedy bastard with an authority complex and he hugs way too hard."
"The hugs are not that bad." You give her a look. "Ok, yeah, they are."
"Uh-huh."
"You could… teach him how to hug and see where that gets you?"
"I think I'd hurt his feelings if I suggested that."
"Then just… hug him!"
"What? No!" You whisper-shout to get your point across but also make sure Magnum doesn't hear you.
"Why not?!" She whisper-shouts back.
"That's… weird! I don't give hugs! Hugs are not a thing I give! I get hugs I do not give them!" You both stare at each other for a minute.
"You're touch starved," she raises an eyebrow.
"No shit, so is he."
"One hug! That's it!"
"I refuse."
"I'm sure it'll make him happy!" You pause, thinking about it. He did seem a little upset when you flinched at him. You glared at the pirate and she gave you a shit-eating grin back. She knew what she was doing. Fuck.
"One hug." You hold up your finger to emphasize the point.
"That's all I ask." You point at her and stand up from your seat. You walk over to Magnum. He looks up at you, eyes widening for a moment.
"First mate." He nods.
"Captain," You nod back, "Can we talk?"
"...uh."
"Just real quick? Somewhere private?"
"Uhhhh."
"Magnum."
"Ok. Yea, we can… do that." You nod and began walking towards his cabin. After a couple steps you realize he's not following you and turn around. There he is, sitting at his table.
"Mags?"
"Hm? Oh! Comin'."
He makes his way over to you and enters his cabin. You enter afterwards, shutting the door behind you. You look at him, this 7-and-a-half foot giant of a man, fidgeting. Nervous. You squint at him. How are you gonna go about this?
"You hug too hard." You state. He frowns and drops his hands to his sides.
"Oh…" He says, sounding disappointed. Fuck hurting his feelings, he was gonna hurt your organs, goddamn.
"You need… you gotta be softer. More-More gentle. Like… like, uh…"
"I'm not sure I can--"
"Here, lemme-just…" you shuffle over to him and wrap your arms around his torso. You feel him tense up under your touch. You lay your cheek on him and just squeeze your arms a little. You can't reach all the way around, but it seems to be working pretty well for what you can do. His arms are just frozen in the air, and he keeps moving them just a little, like he wants to hug you back but can't. You inhale a little and smell gunpowder, wood, and coffee. It's a comforting smell, mostly because it's just his, and you can't help but squeeze a little tighter and nuzzle into him. His breath hitches and his heartbeat speeds up. You grin.
You're fucking with him. Not on purpose, but it's happening.
You finally pull away after a few minutes, giving one final squeeze to his midsection before finally stepping back. You look up at him, an innocent smile on your face. He just stares down at you, a blush on his face. His eyes are a little foggy, and you start to get a little worried. Maybe that was… too much, too fast.
"Mags? You okay?" You whispered. He seems to snap out of whatever trance he's in at that because he sucks in a breath and drops his arms.
"Aye! I'm alright! I'm going to uh… go now!" He announces loudly and stomps out of his cabin.
You chuckle as you watch him walk robotically over to the front of the ship, almost tripping over himself and yelling at anyone who laughed. You sigh, shaking your head and sitting on his bed.
You'd wait until he told you about his feelings. You'd wait until he was ready. You could do that... You could do that.
You look out the door again, seeing the crew all working, and him just standing at the wheel. He has a dopey, crooked smile on his face and his hands keep twitching like he can't contain himself. He catches your eye and looks at you. You stick your tongue out and scrunch up your face. He smiles wider and it looks like he chuckles. He looks away, embarrassed. You smile again before standing up and leaving his cabin, planning to ask what you can help with.
Hugs are good enough for now.
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gillytweed · 3 years
Text
Murder and Smoothies
Summary: Gods, she was so stupid. So very, very stupid. Gideon was going to laugh at her so much when she got out of this… if she got out of this.
“Taken down by a fucking smoothie, amazing,” She’d say as she dragged Harrow back to their apartment, the vampire slung over her shoulder like a sack of soft wet potatoes. It would probably look a lot like what was happening currently.
Or, Vampire Harrow gets kidnapped by a Hunter and our favourite werewolf Gideon needs to come and save her ass. 
Gods, she was so stupid. So very, very stupid. Gideon was going to laugh at her so much when she got out of this… if she got out of this.
“Taken down by a fucking smoothie, amazing,” She’d say as she dragged Harrow back to their apartment, the vampire slung over her shoulder like a sack of soft wet potatoes. It would probably look a lot like what was happening currently.
She let out a soft grunt as the Hunter readjusted her on his shoulder, the joint between the scapula and humerus digging uncomfortably into her stomach.
In her defense, the Allium's scent and flavour had been well hidden among the blend of fruit, and had probably been distilled into a concentrated oil to have such a strong effect. Plus, the Hunter had been working at the smoothie stand for weeks. She’d just assumed he was some old man working a late shift, as he’d given her a smoothie almost every night for the last month.
On the other hand, she should have never become what could be called a regular in the first place.
“Almost home, girlie,” The Hunter said cheerfully, patting her leg like he was a grandfather carrying a sleeping grandchild home. If she could move, she would have tried to rip out his spine and beat him with it.
The area remained deserted as the Hunter took a winding path through back alleys and side streets, having long since planned his route. From what little she could see with her face smushed up against his back, it looked like they were headed towards the docks. How typical, stolen away to some warehouse to be tortured.
Against her assumptions, they turn off just as they’re about to head into the industrial area, instead going in the back door of some apartment complex and up several flights of stairs. Still, no one is around to watch as an old man carries what looks like an unconscious teenage girl into his apartment.
The apartment is sparse, clearly a temporary place to stay as the furniture consists of plastic lawn chairs and table, and a rolled up futon. There’s a few odd pieces of equipment laying around, but really the only sturdy piece of furniture is a metal chair set atop several large sheets of plastic, which the Hunter deposits her into.
He hums a little tune as he adjusts her limp limbs, pulling her arms up to rest on the uncomfortable chair arms, and strapping them down with thick leather bindings. He does the same to her legs, pulling them up next to the chair legs and firmly securing them. Clearly, this Hunter knew what he was doing.
Once she was bound to his satisfaction, he grabbed one of the plastic lawn chairs, set it in front of her and sat down. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees like he was about to have a nice chat with an old friend.
“Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” He starts, voice still as disgustingly pleasant as before. “I want you to call your Coven.”
Ah, while he’d done his research on her movement patterns, clearly he hadn’t tracked her all the way back to their apartment. If he had, he would know she didn’t have a coven, or at least not a typical one.
“Fuck you,” She breathed out the words. Her face was still a bit numb, but the Allium was beginning to wear off just enough to curse at the man.
“Now that isn’t very nice.” He says, smiling like a toddler had unknowingly said something rude. “I’m giving you the chance to avoid a lot of pain, you see.”
He leans back and pulls out something from inside his jacket. She half expected him to pull out a cigarette or cigar to keep in line with the whole ‘kindly grandpa’ schtick, but instead he holds up a pen light and flicks it on. Instantly she knows what it is.
What muscles she has control over start to shake as the small beam of artificial sunlight comes closer. While the artificial light won’t kill her outright, it will certainly hurt like a bitch.
The Hunter continues to hum as he flicks the light around the room, pointing it close to Harrow then pulling it away to loop back around again, teasing her. Eventually, he stops, the beam hovering near her hand.
“Last chance, call your Coven.” She just hisses at him, lips pulling back to reveal needle like fangs. He simply shrugs and moves the light over her fingers.
YUP, that definitely hurt like a bitch. Her hiss turns into one of pain, the noise stuttering as the skin on her knuckles darkens and smokes, flaking away to reveal ligaments and cartilage that also begin to darken. The smell is horrible, like burning meat. At full strength, the light probably would have barely affected her, but with the Allium and having waited to feed for several weeks, she was far from her strongest.
When her fingers are almost nothing more than bone, he stops. She’s breathing hard, despite not technically needing to breathe, but some instincts are hard to forget.
“Hmm, can’t have you healing now can we,” The Hunter says as he watches the edges of her burnt flesh flicker and boil. New strands of muscle curling out from under the charred pieces and stretching down along her phalanges.
He moves out of her vision for a moment. She hears a drawer open and the sound of metal clinking together. She just manages to turn her head a little when he comes back.
While the Allium was taking a while to wear off, it was still wearing off. If she could stall long enough, she could possibly wait it out. She’d only call Gideon as a last resort.
The Hunter sat back down heavily in his chair, the plastic legs scraping the floor unpleasantly. Once settled, he holds up his prize: several, hollow metal rods.
“I’m gonna let you in on a secret,” He says, still smiling. “It doesn’t really matter if you call your Coven or not. I’m still gonna get them all.”
He lays the metal rods over his lap and grabs Harrow’s chair, pulling her closer until she can smell the Allium on his breath. Of course he’d drink Allium before a hunt. It would make his blood undrinkable, so even if she did manage to get free he wasn’t a viable meal. Just perfect.
“You see,” He picks up one of the rods and flicks it, a small ting ringing from the impact. She can see one end is cut in a slant, creating a sharp point. “You leeches, while abominations on God's green earth, still have a wee bit of human in you. Your kind are pack animals, you protect each other.”
For a moment, he pauses and sets the rod aside, instead pulling a knife from his pocket. He grabs her left leg, pulling the fabric of her jeans taught and slicing away at the seam on the inner thigh, exposing pale skin.
“You don’t abandon each other so easily, especially when one of your own is in danger,” He picks up the rod again. “So, even if you don’t call them, I’m not gonna kill you just yet.”
The urge to snap his neck is overpowering when he starts feeling along her inner thigh, searching for something. Of course, with the Allium still in her system, all she can do is shake and twitch, fighting against the numbness as best as she can.
“Ah, here we go,” Without any preamble, the Hunter takes the rod and stabs hard with the sharp end, piercing the femoral artery in one quick thrust.
Her hiss of pain is guttural and involuntary as blood begins draining through the rod. Her leg twitches, the Allium wearing off at the wrong moment which results in a wave of burning pain down her leg. Instantly she can feel her power diminishing.
“If you don’t call your Coven for me,” The hunter continues, completely ignoring the trickle of blood splashing to the plastic sheets on the floor. “I’m going to drain you to torpor, then,” He pauses, wiping his bloody hands off on his jeans. “Once you’re a shriveled little husk, I’m going to string you up in a warehouse and lay in wait.”
He picks up another rod, this time angling it at her chest. The sharp tip rests just below her clavicle. He teasingly holds it there with one finger.
“When they realize you’re missing, they’ll come looking. They’ll follow the trail of your blood scent, and when they arrive they'll fall right into my trap.” He begins to push the rod in, ever so slowly. She feels the skin and muscle part painfully as it slides between her clavicle and top rib. There’s a pause, and then an uncomfortable pressure as her lung is pierced.
“You’ll be in torpor of course, so you won’t get to watch as I kill the rest of you leeches, but you don’t need to worry about that. You just need to decide how much pain you want to experience beforehand.” He stops pushing in the rod, but gives it a little wiggle, making her choke out a groan, before grabbing the next one.
This one he doesn’t leave any preamble. He just shoves it in on the other side of her chest between the second and third ribs. She can feel the weakness setting in, her blood draining.
She hates to admit it, but she needs help.
“G-GIDEON,” She chokes out, the air stuttering in her throat as it leaks away around the rods pushed into her chest.
“Yes, that’s it. Call your Coven!” The Hunter hisses with glee, his eyes bulging wide and horrible. “I have a present just for them.” He holds up a jury-rigged spray canister, a large one that would normally be used to apply insecticides. The acrid scent of Allium wafting off it makes her gag. Just the smell of it makes her sinuses burn and her eyes water, precious blood welling up in place of tears and dripping down her face.  
As the minutes tick by, she can feel her blood slowly drain away, seeping from the puncture wounds in her torso, and her leg. The edges of her vision begin to grow fuzzy with darkness as she’s slowly, painfully pulled towards torpor.
“Gi-deon,” She stutters again, the word coming out as more of a wheezed groan as her lungs continue to collapse in on themselves.
She didn’t want to call Gideon, but she could imagine her face. Her face if she found out what was happening and Harrow hadn't even tried to ask for help. She wouldn’t be mad, she would look hurt and disappointed, like a kicked puppy.
There’s a crash somewhere in the rest of the complex, the sound of wood breaking and metal bending.
“Oh ho, that was faster than expected!” The Hunter crows with glee. He lifts up the spray can, and releases a test spray of Allium. It burns as the substance sprinkles over her skin, the area quickly going numb soon after.
There’s another crash, closer this time. Then a low braying snarl that vibrates in Harrow’s ears. To anyone else, they might mistake it for a dog barking into the night, but to her it meant one thing: Gideon was coming.
The Hunter hauls himself up from his chair and begins grabbing weapons. A large combat knife is tucked into his belt, then a carved wooden stake, made from holly wood, based on the smell. He takes a moment to duct tape the penlight to the top of the spray canister and flicks it on.
There’s a thud outside the apartment door, then some shuffling. Harrow can hear Gideon’s breathing, deep level huffs as she takes in the scents around her. She can imagine Gideon’s nostrils flaring, eyes blazing an unnatural gold as she smells Harrow’s blood then-
An arm erupts through the flimsy wooden door. Black claws gleam in the lowlight as the arm reaches for the doorknob, metal crunching and screeching as it folds under the sheer strength as it’s wrenched open.
The Hunter, without a vampire's supernatural vision, doesn’t realize anything’s amiss until the door is swinging open to reveal Gideon in all her glory.
She was partially transformed, ginger hair thicker and spreading to create a ruff of fur along her neck and shoulders. Her face is slightly elongated, just enough that any human would recognize a predator when they saw her. Her eyes gleamed with an intensity that would terrify any mortal, but only brought Harrow a feeling of relief.
The Hunter lunges, spraying Allium as he goes then brings his knife up to slice at Gideon’s throat. The blade meets air, as Gideon recoils, the numbing spray ineffective against a werewolf. It was more an irritant than anything.
Gideon snarled, lips pulled back to reveal long sharp canines. She shoves the Hunter back, sending him tumbling, and sneezes in a way that would be adorable in any other circumstances.
The Hunter, with agility unhindered by his age, falls, rolls backwards and pops up onto his feet. He lunges again, but staggers as he finally sees what he’s fighting.
“Oh, Fu-“ He doesn’t say anymore as Gideon’s hand pierces his stomach much like she’d pierced the door. From her position, Harrow can’t see much, but she can hear his choked gurgle as Gideons arm flexes and there's a sickening crunch as something within the Hunter is crushed and he goes limp. He slumps to the floor with a thud, sliding off Gideon’s forearm like so much meat.
There’s silence for a moment, the only noise being Gideon’s heavy breathing. Based on the sheen of sweat, she probably started sprinting as soon as she’d heard Harrow call.
Gideon huffed, clearing the last of the Allium from her nose, then beelines for Harrow. She kneels, ignoring the blood pooling around her, and without even asking yanked the rod from Harrow’s thigh.
Harrow let out a soft groan at the sensation of the metal sliding out of her skin, but was glad it was gone. Without anything obstructing the wound, it closes quickly, the hole narrowing until the smallest trickle of blood drips from it.
Next Gideon yanks out the rods in her chest, the feeling just as unpleasant, if not more so. With her lungs essentially collapsed in on themselves, and still very much punctured, all she could do was make a soft wheezing noise.
“Shut up,” Gideon snapped as she moved to release her arms. “Don’t try to talk yet, idiot.” Her words held a small lisp, the sounds interrupted by the fangs in her mouth. While she did roll her eyes, Harrow obeyed, waiting until she was released from her bonds.
As soon as she was free from the chair, Gideon bundled Harrow up into her arms and held her close. It took a little shifting, because Gideon was a gods damned giant, but eventually Harrow was able to reach a good feeding spot.
Her fangs sunk into the flesh just above Gideon’s clavicle, letting blood flow into her mouth. To most vampires, werewolf blood tasted like ass mixed with sewage, to Harrow, when it was Gideon, it tasted like home. It also made her realize how absolutely ravenous she was.
She felt Gideon’s arms tense around her, but it was only so she could stand up. Harrow, too hungry to care, just continued to feed, gulping down mouthfuls of thick wonderful, rejuvenating blood.
She’s passively aware of Gideon giving the Hunters body a solid kick before she’s heading for the door. They’re on the rooftops and several blocks away before Harrow pulls away from her meal.
She could feel her puncture wounds closing, and with every breath her lungs began to expand. She could also feel the deep seated ache that always happened after Allium exposure.
She lets her forehead fall against Gideon’s chest with a light thump and closes her eyes. She let herself enjoy the feeling of the evening breeze as Gideon ran at a loping pace.
Eventually, Gideon stopped to rest on a rooftop a short way from their apartment, plopping down to sit while still holding Harrow. She was breathing hard, having run to get to Harrow, and then ran to get away. To be honest, the feeling of Gideon’s chest heaving under her head was comforting. It was something to focus on other than her own stupidity.
“Soooo, how’d you get caught?” Gods, never mind, apparently she wasn’t allowed to forget being an idiot for even a moment.
“Stupidly.” Was her reply, not lifting her head from Gideon’s chest. “He fed me Allium.”
Harrow could practically feel Gideon wince. While it didn’t affect werewolves like it did vampires, Gideon had seen the effects enough times to know the stuff was capital N nasty. Her arms tightened around Harrow a fraction, hugging her a bit closer.
“Well, that must’ve sucked balls.”
Ah, eloquent as ever.
“Yes, Gideon, it did and continues to ‘suck balls’.” Harrow replied, voice filled with exhaustion. “Paired with being drained of blood, I’m going to need to sleep for a while.” ‘Which means I need you to protect me’ was added silently.
“Aye aye, Capt’n. One coffin, coming right up!” Gideon said with forced cheer as she shuffled her way to standing again. She wobbled a little, the lactic acid having gathered in her legs, but she leapt to the next roof with little difficulty.
Their apartment was a basement suite, chosen specifically to have as few windows as possible. The door was also around the side of the building, giving them a little cover from prying eyes as they went inside. A good thing too, because both of them looked like they’d committed murder.
Which they kind of did, now that she thought about it.
“Okay, Coffin or bath first?” Gideon’s voice was completely serious with none of it’s usual joviality. Harrow thought for the moment it took Gideon to take off her shoes. She was tired, incredibly so, but waking up covered in blood would, as Gideon had said, “suck balls.”
“A change of clothes at least, please,” She sighed, not lifting her head from Gideon’s shoulder. She feels Gideon bob her head, then they’re headed down the hall towards the bedrooms.
Gideon shoves her way into Harrow’s room without preamble, and deposits her gently on the bed. Harrow doesn’t move, letting her body sink into the mattress as Gideon putters around, pulling open drawers.
She hears a thump as her coffin is pulled out of the closet, Gideon grunting as she shoves the heavy box up against the side of the bed. While Harrow could technically sleep in the bed, being inside the coffin was better, mostly for safety. Should anyone drop by unexpectedly, like their landlord for example, Gideon could just put the coffin, and Harrow, deep inside the closet, instead of having what would appear to be a dead body laying in bed.
It also would make emergency transport easier, should it be necessary while she was asleep. She’s fallen asleep before, and then awoken a week later halfway across the country, an exhausted Gideon having to explain their unexpected flight from their old home. And, regardless of the reasoning, Harrow had always felt more comfortable, safer, ensconced inside the coffins thick wood, even if logically it was a dead give away to her vampiric nature.
“Alright, my duchess of darkness,” Harrow opened her eyes to find Gideon standing over her, arms clean of blood, holding a pile of clean clothes. “Let’s get you ready for your nap.”
Harrow sighed, but sat up with a grunt. With fresh blood, the Allium had begun wearing off faster, but she was still sore as hell. Her arms shook as she propped herself up, not even complaining when Gideon wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
Switching clothes wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, the only snag being the zipper on her jeans being crusted closed with blood and both of them deciding ‘fuck it’ and just cutting them off. They were ruined anyway.
Once dressed in comfortable sweatpants, and having wiped the blood from her face at Gideon’s insistence, she shuffles her way into the coffin, curling up on her side with a deep shuddering sigh. Gods she was so tired.
As she slips into a healing sleep, she’s vaguely aware of a hand brushing some of her hair back behind her ear, and a gently murmured, “G’night, Harrow” before the lid of the coffin is closed with a soft thud and she’s left in blissful darkness.
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Note
Once many moons ago you asked for some avatar writing prompts and I’ve been thinking of it ever since. Anyway I’ve also been thinking a lot about your Tourette’s!Sokka hc and fics and I was wondering if you could write a lil bit about how Toph finds out? I know you mentioned that she’d find out after pulling him out of the hole... but I’d love to read more about it
Anyway no pressure and if i’m totally out of line please let me know
Hi!!! No no, thank you so much! You’re not out of line at all!! I could talk about this forever and this is exactly something I need to procrastinate!
for those who don’t know, they’re referring to this post and this oneshot! It’s a lots of headcanons about Sokka (atla) having Tourette’s Syndrome!
This takes place during Bitter Work (I mean... Sokka is a hole haha) and for purposes of speculation and plot convenience, we’re assuming he’s been in the whole for at least half of the day (I mean, maybe that’s canon??? He had trouble walking when they got him out and it was long enough to make Katara worry...).
I tried writing this in a different way, so if anyone has strong thoughts / feelings / opinions on how I portrayed his tics, let me know! The last thing that I want to note beforehand is that tics are... weird and you can’t plan them. Writing for them is harder than I thought because they are random. I, personally, found it easier to write his verbal tics as the same few words because you don’t think of tics, they just happen? So writing them was weird, haha!
Stuck
Word Count: 2,590
Tw: anxiety attack, tic attack (for those with TS or tics, I do write his tics in. They triggered some of mine, so proceed with caution)
----
“Rah-Rah-Rah-Rumble!”
Sokka sighed. “Maybe going to underground Earth bending tournaments was a bad idea,” the young warrior (nose wrinkle) said to himself. “I’m going to be rumbling-- rah-rah-rumble-- for ages now.”
He laughed. Then laughed again (blink, whistle). Then he shrieked in frustration.
Being stuck in this hole was miserable, and not just (whistle, nose wrinkle) miserable, it was terrifying. He couldn’t move his arms, he couldn’t move his legs, moving his fingers was possible, but he had clenched them so much that it was painful to continue, and he needed to move his arms, he needed to (whistle, whistle, whistle) tic.
The others were off training, and that could take hours. He was alone (blink, “yip yip, rumble rumble”) and they had no idea where he was, all they knew was that he was hunting.
The pain… it was hard for his brain to fathom the pain he was in. His legs (blink, whistle, blink) were numb but his arms (“Rah-Rumble”) were sore, they were aching and longing for the ability to move, to tic. It made his head (whistle, blink, blink, “yip, rumble, yip”) hurt. It was hard to breath.
“That’s-- rumble-- it,” he wheezed. “This is how I’m gonna-- rah-rah-- die. Oh, spirits, I’m gonna die!” Panic, pain, and loneliness were savages, wrecking the sanctuary and peace of his mind and body.
“AANG!”
Sokka’s voice clipped, his body feeling (“yip yip, you need to yip yip”, blink, nose wrinkle) awake once more at the sight of his friend.
The monk turned at his name, his face lighting up upon seeing the water tribesman. “Sokka!” he (nose wrinkle, whistle) cried, running to him. “Are you okay?”
He opened his mouth, prepared to make some witty or sarcastic comment, but (whistle, blink) all that came out was a stifled, relieved sob. “I-I’m-- fah-fah-fine, fine-- I just need to get out of this stupid hole,” he assured, tears of happiness welling up in his eyes.
Aang studied him for a moment (“yip yip”), then grabbed onto what he could of Sokka’s hands, trying to pull him (blink, blink, nose wrinkle, whistle) free.
Pain shot through his arms and up to his fingers. “Ow! Stop, stop! You’re-- rumble, rah-rah-- gonna pull my fingers off! And (whistle) I don’t think the r-- re-rah-rumble, rah-rah-rumble-- rest is coming!”
Aang sat down in front of him, panting. “I would try to airbend you out, but I don’t think that’ll do anything.”
(Blink, whistle) “Oh, you can Earthbend me out!” Sokka cried excitedly (blink, blink, “rumble”). “That’s what you’ve been working on, right?”
“I can’t.”
“Well, what about-- yip-- Toph? Can you get her so she can Earthbend me out?”
“I can’t do that either.”
“W-- Wah-Wah-- Why not? I’m stuck and-and I can’t move and--” Sokka broke off into an unstoppable stream of “yip-yip”’s.
Aang started, reaching his hands out, but drew them back. “Suppose you probably don’t want to be touched right now?” he said sheepishly. “I’m sorry. Toph will just get mad at me if I go back. I’m a terrible Earthbender.”
“I just-- yip yip (whistle, blink, blink, nose wrinkle)-- I just want Katara.” The words stumbled out, and for a second, he felt like that young six year old again, asking for his mom when (blink, blink, blink) he had tic spasms during stressful training sessions.
Aang’s grey eyes were filled with sorrow. “I know you need help. I need to get over myself and just face Toph but… I just don’t want to let anyone down…” he trailed off, and (nose wrinkle, whistle) suddenly Sokka wanted to be out of that hole more than anything so he could give Aang all of the love that he deserves.
“Oh! Is that a baby Sabertooth Moose Lion?” asked the monk, a smile popping up on his face as the creature jumped out from the bushes.
“Aang, Foo Foo Cuddly Poops. Foo Foo-- rumble, rah-rah-- Cuddly Poops, Aang,” Sokka introduced nonchalantly, still mentally going through various ways to encourage Aang to get help.
“Huh, that’s weird,” Aang (“yip yip!”) stated, picking Foo Foo Cuddly Poops up. “Their moms are usually really protective.”
The Spirits must have something against Sokka, and maybe once he’s out of the hole he’ll ask Aang to visit the Spirit World and figure out what it is. Almost as if it were on cue, a loud roar shook the trees surrounding them, and Sokka soon felt overcome with blinking and screaming “yip yip”.
The roar came from behind him, but he couldn't move he couldn’t move he couldn’t move he couldn’t-- Spirits, he was crying. He was blinking so hard and so consistently that he was crying. His throat felt tighter and tighter with each “yip”, but he still held onto that small sliver of hope that Toph or Katara would hear him and come help him.
“Aang, I can’t-- ca-a-an’t yip-- I can’t see! I-- you need to yip yip-- can’t see! Is that- is that-thu-thu-- the mother? What’s happ-- yip yip-- ening? I can’t-- you-you, yip yip yip-- I can’t stop-- yip yip yip yip, RUMBLE-- AANG!” His words flew out of his mouth, they were uncontrollable, a storm that had been building up for the past however long he had been in here, festering and brewing. Sokka didn’t know what he was saying, his tongue was improvising, his words were a script never written. Honestly, he would be surprised if Aang could even understand what he said through his nearly constant stream of tics.
He couldn’t see, and not just behind him. His blinking was too excessive. His eyes hurt, his vision completely blurred. He was crying, from fear, pain, blinking too much, and because he just wanted Katara. The ringing in his ears returned, and he wanted to curl up into a ball, letting his tics run their course, holding his head in his hands.
A gust of wind ruffled his already messy hair, some of the longer strands falling into his mouth, but he barely registered it. Through the ringing, he vaguely heard Aang speak to him. And suddenly Sokka sobbed even harder because Aang was twelve and he shouldn’t have to worry about Sokka having a tic attack. The first time he had one around Aang, he had terrified the kid. Poor Katara had to run back and forth between making sure Sokka was alright and not in any pain and that Aang understood what was going on.
Spirits, Aang was probably scared out of his mind right now because they were being attacked and Sokka could do nothing to help him. They were in danger and it felt like he was cowering while the Avatar worked to save them both.
Moment after moment, he continued to tic, and, as Aang later said, continued to have an anxiety attack. It felt like an eternity when he finally saw the blurred face of Aang in front of him, moving in and out of focus. The monk’s mouth was moving, but no words were coming out.
He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t even think. The world around him had faded, falling into a grey abyss of nothingness where even feelings were numb and cold. He forced his eyes shut.
Suddenly, the ground beneath him began to move, it rumbled (much like he was), and out of nowhere, a hand gripped his hair tightly and pulled.
Freedom. He was free, but he couldn’t register it. He swatted at the hand until it let go of him, letting him crumble to the ground in a hysterical heap. The touch only worsened the feeling of restriction, even though he was no longer confined to the hole. The ringing grew louder and louder still, and through it all he could hear was someone screaming his sister’s name. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was Aang.
The curled into a ball position that he so longed for was finally attainable, and Sokka immediately fell into it. His legs were twitching, his hands continually flying to the sky and flashing the number three (a new tic he had picked up that replaced the fist pumping. Where his body picked it up, he hadn’t a clue, but he supposed it was better than fist pumping at everything).
“I can’t-- yip yip, yip rumble yip-- breathe-- bruh-bruh-bruh--!” he screamed it. How his vocal cords found the strength to scream, he didn’t know. All he knew for certain was that he felt like he was dying.
A tender, cool, calloused hand landed on his shoulder and he shuddered at the touch, desperately trying to shake it off. The hand would not relent.
Oftentimes, the light at the end of the tunnel was his name. The ringing halted to a stop, when through the blaring he heard: “Sokka”. The voice was loud but it was not forceful. It was commanding yet compassionate. “Sokka, can you hear me?”
Eyes still forced shut to calm the blinking, he nodded.
“It’s Katara. I know I’m already touching you, but can I hug you? Is that okay?”
Katara… his sister. His mind halted at once, the thoughts of death and breathing slipping away. Cautiously opening an eye, Sokka found his sister in front of him, one hand on his shoulder, the other hovering near his back.
A relieved sigh fell from her lips as he opened his second eye, blinked a few times, and then met hers. Her beautiful blue eyes felt like home. “Thank the Spirits,” she mumbled. “Can I hug you, is that okay? Aang chased away the mother Sabertooth Moose Lion and Toph got you out of the hole. You can move now.”
Realization hit him in full force. Toph didn’t even know he had Tourette’s yet. The chance to tell her never really came up. She probably hated him now.
He nodded once more, leaning into his younger sister’s touch, wrapping his own shaking arms around her, and letting her hold him as he whimpered.
Her touch was warm, heating the coolness of his fear into oblivion. He always liked when Katara hugged him. She always hugged him loosely, allowing him the room to maneuver or wiggle his way out if he felt uncomfortable.
Peace flooded over him, his tears vanishing with each passing moment and his breathing more stable with each breath.
“I’m-- rumble- rah-- so sorry,” he gasped once he extracted himself from the hug, finally calm and back into reality, as the world came back into sight.
“You don’t need to be sorry,” Katara stated firmly, sitting beside him. “We should have looked for you sooner when you didn’t return. I was just so caught up in Aang learning Earthbending and Toph is kind of a mean teacher--”
“Katara, it’s-- yip yip-- fine, really.”
“You were stuck here for hours, Sokka, hours! I was so worried…”
Hand holding wasn’t his thing, not in the slightest. It made his fingers hurt and he could never get his hands to hold still long enough for it to be comfortable for anyone. Katara, though, was the one exception. He reached for her hand, holding it tightly and rubbing his fingers against the back of it.
“Thu-Thu-- Thank you,” he whispered. “I love you.”
Katara leaned her head against his shoulder, finally allowing herself to breathe, all of her worries and fears slipping away with every exhale.
From the corner of his eye, Sokka noticed Aang slowly inching towards him, Toph lingering at his side. He gulped. “Aang, sorry I f-- fr-fre-fuh-fr--freaked out on you. Did I-- rumble rumble-- scare you again?” he asked.
Aang nodded sheepishly. “A little bit. Sorry I couldn’t Earthbend you out. I should’ve gotten Toph right away.”
Sokka shrugged, careful not to jostle his sister’s head. “Eh. It’s okay. You just started l-- luh-luh-rumbLE, LE, LE-- learning.”
The large grey eyes grew wider by the second. Aang bit his lip and glanced anxiously at Sokka. It was a look that Sokka had learned early on. “Come here,” he sighed, gesturing to his other side. “Not too close, though, okay?”
Aang immediately zoomed over and into his side, scooting away slightly before settling.
Sometimes, Aang just needs to be loved and reminded that he’s just a kid and that it’s okay to feel worried and that it’s okay for him to not believe everything was his fault. That look, that look was one asking for forgiveness, one of asking for affection.
And then there was Toph.
It was funny, really, how quickly Sokka could go between completely freaking out and needing someone to help him to him being the comforter, the calm and collected one. He supposed it was because his tic attacks weren’t very frequent, and this one was more extreme than most (probably due to being stuck for hours and having an anxiety attack), so he was used to jumping back into normalcy.
Toph, on the other hand…
“Hey, you,” he called. “Blind Bandit-- yip yip, you need to yip yip-- come join us!”
The hesitant and frightened look (Spirits, she was only twelve too) on her face was a huge contrast in comparison to her pale and usually uncaring complexion. And for a moment, she faltered. Being new and all, Sokka really couldn’t blame her. She barely knew them.
“I’m f-- fuh-fuh--fine,” he assured her. “I have Tourette’s so sometimes-- rumble-rah-rah-- when I can’t move my body freaks-- yip yip (whistle)-- out and sometimes I panic. Then we got attacked by a Sabertooth Moose Lion, I think? I kinda blanked out for that part-- rah-rah-rah--, but anyways, point is, I’m okay. And, I’m sorry for sc-- yip yip-- scaring you.”
The young Earthbender cautiously took a step forward.
“Don’t worry-- wah-wah-worry--, it’s not usually this bad. I guess me getting trapped in a hole-- rumble, rumble, rah-- wasn’t enough torment for the Spirits so they threw a large animal at me. It’s usually just small, normalish things like making hand gestures or my neck twitching,” he continued to explain, his tone gentle and trying his best to suppress his vocal tics for the moment to coax Toph closer. “Are you okay?”
Toph snorted. “I’m not scared, Snoozles. I just… I just couldn’t see what was going on completely and I was confused!”
“And worried!” Aang piped up from his side. “Don’t forget that you were also worried!”
Sokka smiled while Toph growled. She stomped her foot on the ground and a beam of Earth collided with Aang, sending him flying through the air and roughly hitting a tree.
“Ow,” he mumbled, rubbing his head.
Toph just shrugged, quickly making her way to steal Aang’s spot next to Sokka. The young warrior saw the Earthbender raise her fist towards him, then falter.
“Yes, you can touch-- yip yip-- me now,” he laughed. “Uhh, also, sorry for hitting you earlier.”
A hard blow landed on his arm, but he couldn’t have felt happier about it. The trio learned very early on that punching arms was Toph’s way of showing affection. “No biggie. I can take it.”
Aang came stumbling towards them, pouting. “No fair, Toph! I wanted to sit next to Sokka!”
“Well then, make Sugar Queen move and take her place.”
“But Katara has first dibs, she’s his sister!”
“Snooze you lose, Twinkle Toes.”
“But--”
Katara opened her eyes and then proceeded to roll them. “Just come sit next to me, Aang,” she interrupted, extending an arm for the airbender to lean into.
Aang’s face lit up and he raced to her side.
Sokka sighed. Ah, normalcy.
----
Ahhh okay! I hope you liked it!
In case anyone was wondering, the reason why I stopped writing the tics in during the tic attack is because tic attacks (in my own personal experience) are kind of a constant stream of tics where something is always happening, and it would be really hard to write. So, when he had his anxiety / tic attack, I let it flow from there because there’s no way I could write that well or portray it right!
Thank you for reading! I’m always open to Sokka with Tourette’s questions, comments, concerns, etc...! I enjoy talking about it haha! I would also love to hear anyone’s personal Sokka with TS headcannons or ideas or any TS character stuff!
I am also always up to procrastinate, so if anyone ever has any writing prompts or fic recs, please lemme know!
and as always, Katara is FANTASTIC:)
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Text
A Picture is a Poem Without Words
CHAPTER 7
A/N: Okay. So this one is a long one. It’s like 10k. Many things happen. A lot of family drama but fluff to even it out. So we see the return of Javier and Horacio, briefly along with some Steve. Escobar and Valeria appear and are not viewed in great light. (Valeria is not my favorite character tbh).
Warnings: Okay. So. There is some childhood abuse talked about, nothing in extreme detail but I marked when it begins and when its safe again. There’s a brief mention of an attempted assault, not detailed just implied. Um. 
As always: “Speak” “Spanish” ‘Thoughts’
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She had cleaned up the house for the most part and was satisfied with the work she had done. She had just started to sit down when there was a knock on her. She made her way to the door, answering it.
“Salcedo? What brings you here?” She asked surprised.
“Pacho wants you close by. Escobar is not happy and Pacho is worried that you may be a target,” He quickly explained.
She sighed, somewhat annoyed, “And I’m guessing I don’t have much of a choice in this matter?”
Salcedo gave her an apologetic look.
“Let me go get some things. I have 2 boxes of mail to go through so that shall be coming with us,” She tells him quickly.
She handed him the box of cards, letters and small gifts. He took it with a nod and another guard came up and took the heavier box from her family in New York. She grabbed some of her own clothes, and necessities packing them into a suitcase quickly. Once she was ready, they drove her to Pacho’s home.
She walked in, noticing the brothers were there with Pacho. She sees Alvaro sitting next to him reading a book, a notepad near him for when he stopped to write every so often.
She made her way over to the couch, taking the open seat by Pacho quietly. He continued to speak to Miguel about something, the only sign that he gave that he noticed she was there, was his hand coming to rest on her knee.
Salcedo and Córdova set her boxes near her, before taking her suitcase upstairs to her room.
While they talked, she began opening cards. Most of them were from other fighters, who wished her a happy birthday and told her they missed her.
Some had cash stuffed in their cards. Others they sent a gift, that was in the form of a fox. She lined up several trinkets, shakers, towels, and such, all fox themed.
Gilberto asked with a laugh, “Why do you have so many foxes, little one?”
“It’s a long story…” She said with a shake of her head.
She had eventually gotten through all of the birthday wishes, and all that was left was regular mail, so she set the box aside for now.
She walked over to the heavier box, laying it down flat. She pulled out a knife to cut the tape that sealed it. As she pulled open the flats, the first thing she saw was a note resting near a some brand new boxing gloves.
She quickly pulled them with an excited squeak.
“Yesss. Been needing a new pair,” She mumbled throwing a glove on to see how it fit.
She clenched her fist a few times, checking it out. Once she was satisfied, she set them gently onto the coffee table. She turned back to the box and noticed there was plain white box sitting in there as well, so she set it and the note aside for a moment.  She cleared away the tissue to find bubble wrap and it was tightly wound across the large item that was inside.
She gently cut down the sides of the cardboard box, so it was completely flat. She then gently lifted the item up and began to unwrap it one-handed.
She slowly revealed a shadow box, that had her old fight outfit, a few news articles, and her first pair of gloves pinned inside.
“The Silver Vixen?” Came Pacho’s voice as he walked up to get a closer look at it.
“That was my fight name,” She said softly staring at the items inside fondly.
She looked up, and gently waved over a couple guards, asking them to put it some place safe for her. They did, carrying it off to the side. She turned to the white box and note.
She opened the note reading it quickly.
‘Hey sis, on the off chance that you ever come back home, we figured you should have the proper gear and attire beforehand. Love you, Happy Birthday! – Jack & Andy’
“Oh lord,” She whispered as she realized what exactly was in the white box.
Pacho raised an eyebrow, looking at her expectantly.
“Well. Go on. Show us,” His voice was teasing.
She pulled the lid off, shoved the tissue paper away and pulled out a sports bra, a pair of shorts, and a silk robe, all in a dark silver. All embellished with the words “Silver Fox” in white stitching.
“You never told me you were a fighter,” Pacho noted staring at the items.
“I mean… I only did like 10 tournaments/matches,” She waved it off.
“Uh huh. And how many did you lose?” Gilberto asked with a teasing smile.
She looked every which direction, not making eye contact as she not so casually scratched her face, before holding up one finger.
“One? You lost one match?” Miguel asked with a shake of his head.
“Yeah. I did it for a year… during my last match, there was an FBI recruiter in the crowd, and he told me I should apply. So… I did,” She explained briefly, retaking her seat. “And now here I am.”
Pacho leaned over and quietly whispered, “I find that strangely sexy. I might have to see some of these moves of yours.”
She shook her head, smiling at him somewhat embarrassed.
“I’m really not that good. Just… quick,” She replied modestly.
As they resumed talking about business, she grabbed the rest of her mail at the bottom of the box.
She quickly flicked through them, determining them to be junk mail. She checked the box and saw a manilla envelope at the bottom, she grabbed it setting it to the side as she dumped her cards and gifts back into the box, tossing the fighting outfit in there as well.
She was following along with their conversation, as she set the somewhat thick envelope onto her lap.
She looked down at it, her breath catching in her throat as she noticed the address. She swallowed thickly as her hands pulled the plain envelope off, turning it around to open it.
She opens it with somewhat shaky hands, and sees a newspaper sticking out of it. She pulls it out, unfolding it. After flipping it over, she noted it was the local newspaper from her hometown. More specifically, the obituary section. Her eyes drifted down to the column smacked dab in the middle of the page.
‘Aurelia Lage, 59, passed away…’
That was all she was able to read before she dropped the paper. She stood up suddenly and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of tequila before walking outside.
Pacho, grabbed the newspaper that she had dropped, searching it for answers. He quickly found it, recognizing the last name. He sets the paper down and grabs the manila envelope and slowly follows her outside.
She was sitting on the grass, the bottle of tequila resting between her legs. Her face was pale, and she was trembling.
He slowly made his way over to her, sitting by her side. He watched her take a long drink, with a small grimace.
“Your mother?” He prompted quietly.
Blix nodded her head.
“I. I don’t know how to feel. Relieved? Happy? Numb? How does one feel, knowing that the person who hated your entire existence is dead?” She asked rhetorically.
She sighed heavily, knowing she had to finally tell him everything.
“My mother… She uh… had my sisters with her first husband. He died… and she went on the hunt for husband number 2,” She began with a scoff.
“She found him in the mayor of our fair town. A married man, mind you. He and his wife… were having trouble conceiving a child. That was the kind of woman my mother was. She saw a woman, who tried and tried to have kids, and saw it as a weakness to take advantage of,” Blix said bitterly. “They had their affair. She got pregnant, but uhh… so did his wife. His wife had a healthy baby boy… a month after I was born. Do you know what it’s like to have sibling who has no idea you exist?”
Pacho didn’t respond, he just wrapped an arm around her, pulling her in close.
TRIGGER WARNING
“Suffice it to say, the mayor left my mother. And me. The… abuse… started slowly. I would get in trouble far more often than my sisters, even if I wasn’t involved. Time outs were longer. Which slowly led to her locking me in my room… and starving me for days. My sisters… they tried to help, but I didn’t want them to get in trouble…” She took a deep breath, having to steal her nerves to explain the next part.
“When that longer worked, it became physical. I’m not going to explain all of it… but it came to a head when I was 15. She threw a vase at me. It broke against my face. I uhh. I needed 100 stitches to close the wounds,” She stuttered, sniffling as tears began to fall.
TW END
“I grabbed what money I had hidden, from doing odd jobs around the neighborhood. Ran away, once the stitches were out. I made my way to New York. Got busted with some other kids with stolen goods. Judge sent me to a group home and made me go to therapy. That lasted a month,” She snorted at the memory.
“Was about 19. Trying to find shelter from the rain. A couple of guys… cornered me. It was pretty obvious… what they had planned. Tried to fight them off. The owner of the building we were next to, heard the commotion. Scared them off. Took me in. Gave me a job at his gym. Made me get my GED. Was his best fighter for a year, before I became an FBI agent. Traveled the world. Landed here...” She trailed off.
“Met a man who, while a commitment-phobe, taught me to love myself as is. Then I ran into you… and the past 2 months? Have been the happiest I’ve been in a long time,” She stated, looking at him.
Pacho smiled softly, beckoning her to him. She slowly crawls into his lap; she goes to bury her face into his shoulder but stops.
“I’m going to ruin your shirt,” She mumbled.
“Honey. I can literally buy 20 of these. I don’t care if you ruin it,” He informed her quietly, running his hand through her hair.
She stared at him for a moment, before slowly burying her face into him, as smalls sobs began to rake through her body. He quietly shushed her, running his hands up and down her back.
She’s not sure how long she sat like, but by the time her tears became small sniffles, she was exhausted. She slowly pulled away, rubbing her face to dry it off.
Pacho slowly pulls the envelope forward, asking, “Do you want me to open it?”
She nodded her head, “It’s her will for sure, but I don’t know what else is in it.”
“How do you know that?” Pacho inquired as he gently opened it.
“The name. Whit Jacobson? He does all of the will and testaments. He also runs the funeral home and crematorium. ‘Your one stop shop, for when a family member drops.’” She mocked, her eyes rolling.
Pacho paused in his movements, “Please do not tell me… that was his slogan?”
She nodded her head, smiling tightly.
Pacho shook his head, pulling out the documents inside. She took it with shaky hands, looking it over. She noticed almost immediately… that it was off. There were large gaps between each paragraph and some sentences even cut off halfway through a word.
“Great. Now I need lawyer to help me deal with this bullshit,” She muttered annoyed.
She looked back toward Pacho’s hand as he pulled out a few stacks of photos. She froze as she looked at them. The first photo in each stack, was of one of her sisters. A small smile appeared as she examined them.
“Your sisters?” Pacho realized, noticing how they all resembled one another.
“This is Lily, Hope and Darla,” She pointed them out with a sigh. “Lily is the sweetest, Hope the craziest, and Darla, the oldest, is the serious one.”
“They sound lovely… but none of them could hold a candle to you,” He said sweetly.
She smiled shyly at that, and gently placed the photos back into the envelope, swearing to look at them more closely later, and put the will back in as well. Pacho made her stand up and led her over to one of the outside tables and told her to wait there.
A few minutes later, he walked back outside with a plate of food and two forks. He sat down in one of the seats and pulled her into his lap.
“Eat. Need to soak up some of that tequila you’ve been drinking,” He teased her handing her a fork.
She shook her head and took a few bites. The two of them quietly ate, occasionally playfully fighting over a piece with their forks.
Halfway through, he slowly stopped, pulling away slightly. She looked at him confused, setting her fork down, turning her attention to him.
“The last thing… my father ever said to me, was that I will never be a man. He told me this after he caught me with a neighbor boy. I was 16 and he threw me out on the streets,” He slowly began, a bitterness in his tone.
“I began working with the Cali soon after. Worked my way up the ranks. At one point… another guy, was pissed that I was doing so well. Ratted me out to the Gilberto & Miguel. Told them I wasn’t man enough, that I didn’t belong. Do you know what they did?” Pacho asked her.
She shook her head.
“They made me partner. All I am, all I have is because of them,” Pacho ended with a sigh.
She started to say something but stopped herself, voting to instead take another bite of food.
“What?” Pacho lightly asked.
She paused before mentioning, “That day… in the hotel? When we talked about the surrender? You made a face or.. maybe it was your tone… but I had feeling that you weren’t thrilled by the idea. It makes more sense now. The cartel. It’s allowed you to live how you want, without restraint or fear. Without it, what are you left with?”
He gave a short laugh, nodding his head. “You noticed that, but fail to notice several men eyeing you like your hottest thing they’ve ever seen?”
“I notice what’s important, silly. Those guys? In the long run, mean nothing to me. You, on the other hand, mean a great deal to me,” She whispered pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Also. Who was this asshole that tried to out you? Need to know in case I need to stab a hoe,” She half-joked.
“A Salvador, no one of importance to be honest. But I appreciate you wishing to defend my honor,” He laughed.
“I’m going to go to bed. Do you mind if I crash in yours? Don’t… want to be alone,” She said soberly.
He nodded his head, giving her a kiss. “I’ll join you in a little bit, alright?”
She smiled and stood up, making her way inside. She was on autopilot making her way upstairs, she didn’t even bother stopping by her room. She stepped into Pacho’s bedroom, making her way over to his closet. She grabbed one of his plain long sleeve button-ups. She stripped down to just her underwear and threw the shirt on.
She went into the bathroom to clean her face and do her business. A few minutes later, she had crawled under the covers, holding one of the pillows closely to her as she quickly fell asleep.
Downstairs, Pacho walked into the living room, sighing heavily.
“What happened?” Gilberto asked curious.
“She was informed in not so many words, that her psychotic mother passed away. She needs a lawyer to look at this will, it’s terribly edited and I’m sure someone was trying to pull a fast one,” He briefly informed him, dropping the will onto the coffee table.
“We will get ours right on it. Go to her. Gilberto and I will crash here tonight, and make phone calls in the morning, okay?” Miguel stated firmly standing up with Gilberto.
“Careful Miguel. It almost sounds like you care about her?” Gilberto teased.
“She’s a good girl and she’s good for you. She’s the Lady of Cali after all,” Miguel pointed out looking at Pacho, referencing her newly acquired nickname.
Pacho nodded and bid them goodnight. Alvaro looked at his brother and noticed he was fidgeting.
“You told her about our father,” He stated more than asked.
Pacho looked at him, raising an eyebrow.
“You’re fidgeting. You only ever do after talking about him,” Alvaro explained nodding towards Pacho’s hands.
Pacho had no response to that, and just smiled tightly.
“Go get some rest little brother,” Pacho recommended after a moment, making his way to the stairs.
When he got to his bedroom, he paused, staring at Blix who was in the middle of the bed, passed out. He noted with a soft smile that she was in one of his shirts. He quietly got ready for bed, and as he slid in next to her, she turned over, reaching for him.
He settled in, pulling her close, listening to her sigh happily as she snuggled into his arms. He noticed after a moment, Diego standing at the doorway.
Diego had come up after one of the guards who had been patrolling outside, overheard their conversation and relayed it to several others.
He strips down to just his boxer, and gently, hesitantly, lays behind her, wrapping an arm around her. She blearily looked at his arm, noticing the extra warmth, and just slowly held it to her.
Once she was back to sleep, Diego quietly asked, “How is she so nice? Survived all of that, and… is not bitter at the world?”
Pacho hummed, “I think she’s more bitter than she lets on. She just doesn’t want the world to see it. We can talk later. I don’t want to wake her up.”
Diego nodded his head, and the two of them slowly fell asleep.
When Blix woke up the next morning, she was slightly disoriented. Her eyes blinked open slowly, confused as to why she was so warm. She glanced down and noticed two different arms were wrapped around her waist. Looking to her left and right, she spotted Pacho and Diego, sleeping contently on either side of her.
She smiled, reaching up to rub the sleep out of her eyes. When her vision was cleared, she spotted Alvaro waiting by the door, smirking at the sight before him.
“Hey,” She softly greeted.
“Good morning. Your phone’s been ringing, I figured you should probably answer it,” Alvaro greeted, showing her phone in his hand.
She nodded, gently sitting up, trying not to wake either men. She eventually stood up, and gingerly walked toward the end of the bed, stepping off once she got there.
She whispered a thank you as she took her phone. She noticed that Steve, Javier, and Theo had tried calling her.
She calls Theo, and once he answered asked, “What the hell happen?”
“It’s a shitshow boss. Escobar surrendered but his terms are laughable. He built his own prison and DEA can do fuck all about it. But now, the embassy is under a microscope. All staff must report in to discuss the new changes. You are wanted by 1pm boss,” Theo said rushed.
“Shit. Umm. Okay. Its 9:30? Okay, I can be there by 1. I’ll see ya then,” She answered hanging up and rushing into her bedroom.
She grabbed some black slacks, and a silk blouse from the closet, tossing them and some heels onto the bed, while she raced to get herself ready. She didn’t have time to get a shower in, so she cleaned her face, threw on a dash of makeup and healthy amount of deodorant/perfume.
She threw her hair into a slightly messy bun and tossed the shirt she was wearing to the floor. She grabbed a bra and got dressed in minutes. She tossed her FBI badge around her neck, made sure her IDs were in her messenger bag, and after securing her gun into its holster, slipped it onto her hip.
She jumped into her shoes, grabbing her bag and phone, moving quickly downstairs.
“Alvaro? Please tell your brother I will be in Bogota for the day!” She called out as she passed him.
She saw Salcedo and a few others getting into a car.
“Hey, Salcedo! Mind if I bum a ride to the airport with you guys?” She asked as she caught up to them.
Salcedo replied, “Of course. Get in.”
She hopped in, taking a seat next to Navegante. They took her to the airport, making small talk.
Two hours later, and she was standing in front of the American Embassy. She made her way inside, stopping briefly to check on her team, since they were all assembled in their water closet sized office.
Her team gave her a stack of files to go through, and a few reports she needed to sign off.
She took them with her as she walked into the conference room that was crowded with members from every department.
When she stepped in, the attention turned to her.
Her director commented, “Nice to see you finally join us Agent Lage.”
She went to apologize but a random agent, one from CIA felt the need to mutter loudly, “Too busy whoring around I’d bet.”
Her eyes narrowed, and a tight smile formed on her face, ignoring the chuckles.
“I’m sorry if I am a bit late director. I was informed of a death in my family last night,” She spoke plainly.
The director looked at her with sympathy, and said, “My condolences. Please be sure to stay the full meeting. Many things are to be discussed.”
She nodded her head and turned her gaze to the man who spoke before, “I’m sorry. Were you trying to say something earlier? Couldn’t quite hear you over your mumbling? If you have something to say, say it to my face like a man. That way at least when I knock you on your ass, you can have some dignity.”
She smiled somewhat viciously when he turned red and backed away into the crowd.
She moved toward Javier and Steve who were leaning against the wall, waiting.
A few minutes passed, before the room began to clear out. Soon it was just 2 members of each department. When they all took their seats, they were informed that Ambassador Noonan has retired.
“I am to be your new ambassador and things are going to change around here,” Arthur Crosby spoke firmly.
He laid out the new guidelines, especially for the DEA. He told them that everyone will be setting up in Medellin in a new office.
He eventually turned his attention to her and Theo.
“I want the both of you to bring me up to speed about these museum robberies,” He demanded looking at them expectantly.
“Our suspect is Augustus König. He’s wanted around the world for numerous robberies. We have narrowed down a list of potential warehouses that he may be using to hideout, and store everything he’s stolen. As far as we are aware, he hasn’t sold any of the items,” Blix began speaking.
“… and… He knows who I am. We ran into each other the other day. I don’t think he’s aware of the other members of my team, but he made me well aware that he doesn’t fear law enforcement,” She concluded hesitantly.
Theo looked at her surprised.
Stechner snorted, “Hm. Was that… before or after your little trip to Medellin the other day?”
She looked at him and asked, “Is there something you’d like to say?”
“Hmm. No, just find it interesting that both you and the Cali Cartel were seen in Medellin around the same time,” He said with feigned innocence.
“Are you having me followed?” She accused her face hardening. “Ambassador, I apologize but this is something I would like addressed. Seeing as how, my lovely… coworkers here… had no qualms about leaking my dossier to said cartel, and your predecessor knew about it.”
Crosby raised his hand to stop Stechner from speaking, “Listen, all of you. The priority is the Medellin cartel and the Communists. No more spying on other agencies, if there is not a valid concern. No more arguments. No more fights.”
He stared pointedly at Blix when he said the last line.
“Now, if this König is indeed aware of you Agent Lage, then I would hope you are taking the necessary precautions to make sure this doesn’t blow up in our face. The Colombians would have a field day if they learned we were the reason for millions of dollars of priceless art was lost forever because of a minor mistake,” Crosby returned to the subject at hand, subtly warning her to not mess up.
She nodded her head in affirmation. They spoke more next steps, and toward the end her phone began to go off.
She winced and quietly answered it, “Hello?”
“Miss Lage? This is Alan Starkman, Pacho called me to look over your will?” Came a male voice.
“Oh. Um. Do you mind if I call you back in about 10 minutes, I am in the middle of a meeting?” She requested trying to end the phone call quickly.
“Sure,” He replied before hanging up.
She rolls her eyes and puts her phone back into her pocket. “Sorry. Lawyer.”
They finished up the meeting without further interruptions and as she stepped out, she turned to the ambassador.
“Uh. Sir. Just a quick note, I am having to deal with some nonsense regarding my mother’s will, and I may have to make a trip to Georgia to fix things,” She spoke quietly.
“Do what you need to do. You have my condolences as well,” He remarked making his way to his office.
She nodded her in appreciation but was internally grimacing.
She quickly called the lawyer back, who was quick to inform her that many things were off. He has it set for them to meet with Whit Jacobson at 1pm tomorrow in Georgia, with her sisters.
She thanked him for his help and said she’d meet him tomorrow at the airport.
Once that was done, she sighed heavily. This was not how she expected her day to go.
She worked on the files she had at hand, finishing them up in an hour, when Javier appeared at her desk.
“You finish?” He quietly asked.
She nodded her head, he told her to come with him.
She does so, following him to his truck. They drove for a while before pulling up to a familiar home, where the car out front was packed full of suitcases.
“Horacio has been reassigned. Figured you’d want to say goodbye before he’s shipped to Spain,” Javier tells her.
She kissed his cheek in thanks and stepped out. She walked up to the door, knocking on the frame, and calling out “Anyone home?”
She hears two sets of feet running toward her and was almost knocked off her feet when two small bodies ran into her.
“Ah! My favorites! How are you my loves?” She exclaimed picking them both up in her arms and waddling with them into the living room.
They tell her they were sad that they had to leave. “Oh, I’m very sad too. I may have to steal you and take you to Cali with me.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Julianna remarked as she walked over. “I might let you.”
Blix laughed as she put them down, giving Julianna a hug in greeting.
“He’s out back,” Julianna tells her nodding her head toward the backyard.
Blix slowly made her way to him outside. He was staring off into the distance, hands in his pockets.
“Hey old man,” She greeted, lightly teasing him.
He turned around to face, a small smile on his face. She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him. He returns it muttering, “Hey, brat.”
She hugged him for a solid minute, not really wanting to let go, but she didn’t want to make it weird.
She pulled away with a sigh, asking in disbelief, “They’re really reassigning you to Spain?”
He nodded his head, and opened his mouth to respond when he stopped, moving his hand to tilt her chin up. He examined her face with a frown.
“Have you been crying, little fox?” He asked concerned.
“I found out my mother died… and I have to go back home to Georgia to fix some bullshit concerning her will,” She muttered quietly, breaking her gaze with his.
He sighed softly, before leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. He was one of the few people she had confided in about what had happened to her when she was young. In that moment, she looked so small and though she did her best to hide it, he could tell she was scared.
“What do you need me to do? Need me to go with you tomorrow? I’ve been told I can be quite intimidating,” He offered her.
“You’ve been told huh?” She repeated with a teasing smile.
“I appreciate the offer, but… this is something I need to face alone. You always said that my past will try to catch up to me. Well. It has,” She denied his offer with a shake of her head.
“Doesn’t mean you should go through it alone. I know we butted heads a lot in the beginning, but you’ve become a kid sister to me. If you need me, you can always call me. Day or night,” Horacio informed her sweetly.
She felt her nose twinge and lip tremble, as she tried to not cry in front of him. She couldn’t quite speak, so she just simply threw her arms around him in another hug. He chuckled quietly and hugged her back.
She stepped back after a moment, sniffling softly, trying to calm herself.
“I’ll miss you,” She whispered.
He threw an arm around her shoulder, mumbling into her hair that he would miss her as well, as they walked back inside.
She said her goodbyes to everyone and made her way back to Javier in his truck. Javier drove her to his apartment after that, and she sat somewhat numbly on his couch as he made lunch.
A sandwich and some chips were presented to her, and she took it with a soft ‘thank you.’
He sat next to her, throwing on some tv, a movie of some sorts. The two of them quietly ate, setting their plates on the coffee table once they were both done. She was vaguely aware that he had on Star Wars.
She slowly rested her head against his shoulder, he held her hand in response. She quietly told him what was going on with her family. He was quiet the entire time, listening to her. When she was finished, he didn’t react at first. He surprised her when he suddenly pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her tightly. He held her close, and that’s how they sat for most of the day.
When evening rolled around, she made a few phone calls that she needed to do before tomorrow. When it came around time to go to bed, she collapsed on top of him once he was laying down on the bed.
“At some point… I do want to talk about you... about… that phone call I made… a while back. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable that night. I do…think about us… Probably more often than I should, given I was the asshole who called it off,” Javier voice spoke out into the darkness.
“…I think about it too… but maybe for now… it’s a good thing we are not together. We both have very different priorities when it comes to our jobs. Maybe… in the future we could talk about this more in detail,” She requested politely, even though in her head, she didn’t know if a future with Javier would happen. Not with the feelings she had for Pacho.
He nodded his head, “Yeah. This whole thing with Escobar… is… draining. I’d rather you didn’t witness any of the fallout. As ridiculous as it sounds, you’re safer in Cali.”
She thought in her head, ‘Yeah. Especially when I’m dating a Gentleman.’
They fell asleep and the next morning, she slipped out. Getting dressed in what she wore yesterday, before heading out to the airport. She met with the lawyer, an older man who was a bit on thicker side. He gave her a bag of clothes to change into, before they hopped into one of the cartels personal planes.
She made her way toward the bathroom, relieved to see there was a small shower. She cleaned herself off before looking into the bag that she was handed. As she changed, she noted that Pacho was probably the one who picked out the outfit. It was a black button-down silk shirt, with black pencil skirt that went past her knees, with a matching pair of black pumps.
She walked out feeling fresh as their flight made its course. The trip took 5hrs and soon they had landed. She grimaced with disdain at the humidity and the heat. They got into a car and made their way to Willow’s Creek, Georgia.
She made some calls on her way there and as they parked outside the courthouse, after driving into town, she let her lawyer walk in first to finish up her calls.
Minutes later, she was walking, and stopped just next to the conference room where she could Jacobson complaining that he was being scammed and what an outrage this was.
“Indeed, Whit… what an outrage?” She mocked stepping inside.
She momentarily froze when she saw her sisters, whose faces all lit up as they took her in.
“This,” She set her copy of the will down before them. “Was what he sent me. And just glancing at the original, you see that I was given forged document.”
Darla, was the first to move, taking the will into her hands and looking at with growing outrage.
“What the hell is this Whit?” Came her voice, deeper than she remembered, but with a hint of sultry.
“Whit… here. You what? Thought I was an idiot? That I would sign this blindly? Hmm?” She questioned, turning her attention to him, as he nervously stuttered.
“It’s a shame… especially when,” She pulled out her badge presenting it to him. “I’m a federal agent. It’s a bigger shame that… I had to cash in a couple of favors with the White-Collar division. Because if you were willing to screw me over…. How many other families did you do this to?”
Behind her, in the office, several agents had begun to enter and were seizing everything.
“I would nev-” Whit began to deny.
“Uh huh. It’s interesting that a man who barely makes 30k a year is able to afford a Porsche and the house you own… Are you really going to keep denying this?” Blix smiled victoriously.
An agent came in serving a warrant, arresting him. She waved goodbye as he passed her.
“Is this the original?” She asked turning around to face her sisters who looked at her in shock.
Lily nodded her head. Blix grabbed her pen from her bag and quickly signed the will with a sigh.
When it was done, she looked at Starkman and requested, “You’ll get me a copy of this, yeah?”
He nodded his with a smug smile, “There are some assets that do need to be discussed. Ladies?”
Blix reluctantly sat down across from them, and said, “Shoot.”
Lily spoke first, “Well. Um. We all discussed that the ranch and everything should go to you. You loved it the most, it’s only right it goes to you.”
Lily slid a small envelope that had a set of keys inside.
Blix smiled smally, taking them.
“The house. Um. None of us want it and I doubt that you do either,” Darla took over pausing to see Blix shake her head ‘no.’ “So, we are dividing everything among us, and selling off/throwing away furniture we don’t want. The grand piano is yours.”
“Along with all the books in the library,” Chimed in Hope, her voice bright and cheery.
“The last sort of major items are the cars. The Morgan, the Convertible, and the Mustang,” Lily ended.
Blix thought for a moment before stating, “Well. Darla should get the Morgan. It was always your favorite. Plus, you were the only who learned how to drive stick.”
They all chuckled a little at that.
“Then… the ‘stang and convertible should go to either of you. I don’t need a car, have plenty,” She said looking at Lily and Hope.
They both nodded, Darla then stated, “That’s all of the major items, like we said, we’re just going to divide everything evenly. We did, however, find one thing, that you should have now.”
Lily giggled as she pulled out a small pink bomber jacket, that had the words “Pink Lady” on it.
“Good lord where did you find that?” Blix asked mildly horrified as she took it.
“One of the boxes in the attic, we all found ours, so we hoped that you would come and get yours. Maybe give it to any little ones you wind up having?” Hope explained somewhat shyly.
Blix smiled at it and whispered a soft ‘thank you,’ before folding it gently and putting it in her bag.
“If that’s everything, I need to be going soon. Work waits for no one,” Blix noted standing up.
“Uhh. Just… one last thing… you… you wouldn’t happen to know what happened to mom’s little black book, do you? People… keep trying to claim that she owed them stuff from years ago,” Lily asked worriedly.
Blix paused at the door, sighing. She turned to them and said, “I have it. I’ll fax over a copy I made for you guys.”
She then grabbed a scrap piece of paper from her bag and put down her numbers on it.
“You can uh… call me on either of the first 2 numbers. The third is my fax. I’ll be sure to get that info to you guys, asap,” She said, pushing the paper to them, and walking out.
Her hands shook as she threw on her sunglasses, just before she made it to the door. She wasn’t sure how to react with everything. She stepped outside and made it halfway down the stairs when she saw a peculiar sight.
“Pacho,” She said, drinking in his form as he leaned against a motorcycle, looking every bit the bad boy persona.
She strolled over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, under his leather jacket.
“What are you doing here honey?” She asked with a smile.
“Checking up on my girl. How are you?” He wondered looking her over.
“Better now that you’re here,” She replied sweetly, giving him a kiss.
He kissed back and told her, “I came to steal you away for a few days. I have some business down in Florida I need to take care of. I figured you and I could have some much needed alone time.”
She smiled at that and started to answer when she heard someone clear their throat. She turned around and spotted her sisters standing, looking at the two of them curiously.
“Pacho. These are my sisters. Lily, Hope, and Darla. Guys, this is Pacho, my boyfriend,” She introduced quickly.
Pacho smiled charmingly and said hello to them with a small wave.
Lily was the first to react, throwing her hands around Blix, pulling her into a tight hug.
Blix was not expecting, giving a small “Oof!”
Hope and Darla joined in and were hugging her as well.
Pacho smiled as he noted that Blix was trying and failing to not cry. Staring at her sisters, he noted their caramel blonde hairs, and blue-green eyes. Seeing them together, he realized, if Blix had been blonde, it would’ve been difficult to distinguish who was who.
They said their goodbyes and promised to call each other.
Blix wiped her eyes, returning to Pacho’s embrace.
“So. How exactly do you expect me to ride comfortably on this thing in this skirt?” She asked with a laugh.
“The skirt shortens,” He tells her with a smirk.
She looked down at it and spotted that just above the knee was flap that perfectly covered the zipper. She unzips it without care, stepping out of it, and tossing the fabric into her bag.
It was still a bit tight but gave her legs more mobility. She moved to straddle the bike but stopped.
“Can we… make one quick pitstop before we go to the airport?” She pleaded.
He nodded his head, and she directed them to a place that was about half a mile away from town.
As he pulled up, she took in the crumbling barn in the distance, and the house that had seen better days.
“This is your grandparents place, yes?” He confirmed as they stopped.
She nodded her head, “My sisters gave it to me.”
Blix walked toward the house, hesitantly. She looked all around, remembering how beautiful it once was. It saddened her to see it in the state it was in.
She pulled out the key, and gently opened the door, brushing away cobwebs that had formed near the entrance.
The inside of it still looked the way it did when she was child, just dusty. There was only one thing she wanted from inside. A photo. It sat on the mantle, just above the fireplace. She brushed off the layer of dust that had built onto it, revealing her as a child, with a large black stallion.
She picked it up, brushing it off as best as she could, as she made her way back outside. She locked the door behind her, and then gazed fondly at the frame in her hands.
She moved back to Pacho, and shyly showed him the photo. He smiled as he stared at it.
“Aww. Look at you. So cute. Was this your horse?” He asked teasing lightly.
“Yeah. His name was Zeus. I was the only he would let ride him. He was very... peculiar. I found out later on, that they rescued him when he was a foal, and he had been starved. I’m pretty sure he uh. He knew. Kindred spirits and all,” She explained softly.
“What happened to him?” Pacho inquired curiously.
“He was sold. He uhh. Went to a farm where he became a racehorse and had many babies. He died about 5 years ago? I think? He was 20,” She stated as she gently placed the frame into her bag.
Pacho stared at her and mentioned, “You looked very happy in that photo. Now I see why my ranch made brought you such joy.”
She simply gave him a kiss and got back onto the bike with him. They rode away, Blix feeling lighter and more relaxed than she’s felt in a long time.
They drove to the airport, hopped onto a plane, greeting Navegante. It wasn’t long before they landed in Florida and made their way to a small, nondescript motel.
The plans discussed were about getting rid of the Lion and taking over Escobar’s market here in Florida. It took about 3 days to get the assets under Cali’s control, and watching Pacho work his charm was a sight to behold. In their free time, he wooed her, taking her to museums and parks. At night they spent tangled up each other, whispering sweet nothings to one another.
When the work was done, and they packed up their stuff, they had but one last thing to do. They invited Lion to their motel, where Navegante make quick work of him. Blix didn’t bother asking what he did with the body; some things are better left unknown.
That day they returned to Cali, and it was as she walked inside Pacho’s home, she realized, that this was becoming more of a home to her than her own place. Especially when she walked in to see Gilberto and Miguel standing there, waiting to welcome the both of them home.
Gilberto gave her a huge hug that she wasn’t expecting but accepted it. Her attention was directed to the side where a large pile of boxes laid and behind all of it, sat a grand piano. It was mahogany wood, in a Victorian style.
She wandered over it, gently lifting the cover over the keys. She looked at it and played a few notes. She noticed quickly that the keys needed to be tuned, as the tones were offkey as they played.
She ran her hand softly over the wood, noting the smalls scuffs that she knew needed to be worked out.
“Wouldn’t happen to know anyone who can tune a piano do you?” She asked them over her shoulder.
“No, but we could find one pretty easy,” Miguel offered with a chuckle.
“These got here fast? Is Starkman trying to impress me or something?” Blix questioned staring at all of the boxes.
“Possibly. You are the Lady of Cali after all,” Gilberto said grandly, with a laugh.
She turned to look at him in surprise, “The Lady of Cali? When did I earn that title?”
“It’s what the other cartels referred to you as, after the party. Kind of stuck with everyone here,” Miguel explained, with half a shrug.
“You made quite the impression on everyone. You are well liked,” Gilberto said proudly.
She smiled looking at the boxes. Most were notated as books and then one was marked “Blix’s Room.” She reached over into Pacho’s pocket, grabbing the pocketknife she knew he carried, to open it.
She held the knife, trying to control the shakiness she felt as she cut open the tape. A moment later, she set the knife down, and pulled the flaps open. Inside she could see several trophies, and a couple of small knickknacks. But the thing that caught her eye the most was the large, dark brown teddy bear.
She bit her lip as she reached in and pulled him out. She stared at him for a minute, memories flickering through her mind. When she first got him, the comfort he brought, leaving him behind when she ran away.
She slowly set him back inside, shaking her head.
“Umm. I’m not quite sure what to do with all of this?” She wondered turning her gaze to Pacho.
“We’ll figure it out. C’mon. Let’s go eat,” He suggested, holding his hand out to her.
She takes it, holding onto it tightly as they made their way to the table to eat.
Elsewhere, in La Catedral, Escobar was concocting a plan. Blackie had come to him with some interesting developments.
He wanted to get back at the Cali Cartel, but he had to get rid of their little federal agent. Not permanently but distracted. Away from them for a time.
He made a call to Valeria and slid the information to her.
“Sorry, Miss Lage, but this is too good to pass up,” He murmured to himself looking down at the file.
Back with Blix, she was listening to Gilberto tell a story about Pacho from when he first began, trying not to laugh at it.
Halfway through the story, Diego came in, and he looked distraught.
“Diego? What’s up?” She asked him concerned.
Diego didn’t speak, just turned on the TV that was setting in the dining room. He switched it to the channel where Valeria Vasquez was reporting.
“And in other news, I have just received info from an anonymous source. Scandalous information about a US Senator,” Valeria teased, her eyes bright.
Blix froze, sitting up straight.
“US Senator Alexander Danvers had quite the illustrious affair about 30 years ago. Now, you are probably wondering… Valeria? What does that have to do with us? Well. That affair led to a bastard child. Federal Agent Blix Lage of the FBI…. Whose stationed here in Colombia,” Valeria reported.
Blix stood up suddenly, pacing back and forth.  
“I’m going to kill him. That bastard. That fucking bastard. To hell with the DEA, to hell with extradition. I’m going to murder him. Him and that bitch,” She muttered angrily, as she paced.
“Honey? Kill who?” Pacho asked, stepping into her path, trying to get her to focus and calm down.
“Escobar! OBVIOUSLY! ‘An ANONYMOUS source?’ When EVERYONE knows she’s whore herself out to that man for any information to BOOST her career!” She exclaimed, furious.
“Can this week get ANY worse?” She murmured defeated, resting her head against his chest.
She heard her phone ring and she groaned loudly as she looked at the ID.
“Yes, Ambassador?” She greeted her voice strained.
“Get to Bogota. We apparently have a guest on their way here. This story has been running for the past hour and has made its way to US media. This is a scandal we did not need Miss Lage,” Crosby informed her.
“Yes sir. Right away,” She answered robotically hanging up.
“I have to go to Bogota. Again. Apparently… guests are making their way to the Embassy. Joy,” She relayed grimacing.
“Wait. Rewind a bit… Your father is a senator?” Miguel questioned confused.
“Unfortunately. Moved his way from small town mayor, to governor of Georgia, to US Senator. My half-brother is currently running for governor himself,” She explained dully.
Gilberto and Miguel looked at her surprised.
“Don’t get excited. That man hasn’t acknowledged my existence once. Doubt my dear lil brother even knows I exist,” She stated, cutting off any ideas that may be forming.
“When I come back from this train wreck encounter, we are going to sleep… for 5 weeks,” She said to Pacho, exhausted.
He pulls her to him, pressing kisses to her face, whispering, “Sounds like a plan.”
She went upstairs, packing a bag for a few nights, planning to stay at a hotel. She angrily threw in some clothes, slowly stopping. She closed her eyes, wishing that this was just some terrible nightmare. She collapsed to her knees, the stress of the past week hitting her hard.
She found herself crying into her hands, as silently as she could. She knew one day her past would catch up to her. She just didn’t think it would happen all at once. She was tired. She was tired of pretending she was okay. So, in the silence of her room, she cried.
Pacho made his way upstairs to check on her and stopped when he heard her sobs. He let her cry for a moment before he walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her. He gently lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the bed to lay her upon it. Once she was on the bed, he curled up next to her, softly wiping away the tears that had formed.
“Do you want me to go with you?” He asked in a whisper.
She shook her head, “No. The media will probably be all over me for a day or so. Don’t want the world to find out I’m also dating a cartel member.”
He nodded once, before assuring her, “I’m here if you need me. I’ll hop on a plane to you. Just say the word. If not, I’ll be here waiting for you to return to me.”
She smiled, sniffling as she tried wiping her face off to clear more tears.
“Regretting being with someone who has so much baggage yet?” She asked in a self-deprecating tone.
“No. Quite the opposite really. I’m quite in love with my Lady of Cali,” He confessed looking her in the eyes.
She felt her breath catch at that admission, and she could feel her heart swell with emotion.
“Pacho… I only just stopped crying and now you’re going to make me cry some more?” She inquired feeling tears in her eyes again.
“Are they happy tears?” He lightly questioned.
“Yes. They are. Especially when… I’m pretty sure I’m falling for you too,” She admitted kissing him.
“Good to know. Now, get to Bogota. Deal with your shit father. Come home to me and I’ll make sure you won’t be leaving my bed for hours if not days,” He promised her.
She nodded her head agreeing, before sitting up and walking into the bathroom to clean herself up real quick. Once she was done with that, she finished packing and was off to Bogota. The brothers had paid for a hotel room for her, telling her to get whatever she wants.
So, when she checked she ordered a small sandwich and fries. It was late by the time she got in, and the ambassador called her again to tell her to be at the embassy at 8am sharp and that even the president of Colombia would be joining them.
She ate quietly, before falling into a fitful sleep. When she woke up the next day, she was not prepared to face whatever hell that was waiting for her.
She showered, got dressed, and 15 mins before 8am she was at the steps of the embassy. There were reporters and photographers everywhere. She sighed and stepped out, pushing past the crowd that was shouting questions at her.
“What’s it like to be the bastard child of a US Senator?” She hears Valeria ask her just as she was about to reach the top.
She stopped, annoyance racing through her entire being.
She turned sharply around to her, and threw back, “Valeria. What’s it like being such a mediocre reporter that you lie about your ‘anonymous sources’ when we all know who you get your info from?”
Her face fell and was filled with rage as several other reporters laughed then coughed.
“Tell Mr. Escobar I say hello,” She spat out, turning away from her and walking inside.
She made her way up to conference room, ignoring the stares and whispers that erupted all around her. She stepped inside, ignoring the 3 people who were sitting down. She greeted the president and the ambassador first. She slowly turned to look at the older gentleman that sat in the middle.
His hair was once a dark brunette that now has streaks of grey, his eyes were bright green. The woman besides him, was blonde and demure looking. The last man, as she turned her gaze to take him, was her age… and honestly, they looked like they could be twins.
“Hello senator,” She greeted somewhat dully.
She took her seat and waited for the ambassador to speak.
The ambassador informed her that they are unaware of what exactly the evidence was that tied her to the senator. As he spoke, senator Danvers cut in claiming this was all a lie, a scam. That he had no idea who I was.
His denials infuriated her.
She stood up suddenly and stared him in the eyes.
“Listen. I didn’t want this. I don’t care about you. But don’t you dare lie. You had an affair. You had me, then your son. You abandoned me without a second thought. Don’t you dare say that you have no idea who I am, when we,” she pointed to the younger man, “look like twins.”
He stopped and stared at her stunned.
“I lived with this knowledge since I was 10. Just ask your wife. She knew. She knew the whole time,” She informed glancing over at her. “In fact, she was the one who told me all about it.”
“Martha, what is she talking about?” He quietly asked her.
“Yes Martha. Tell him. Tell him how you hired me to help you work on your garden and how you told a 10-year-old that she was not only a bastard, but unwanted by both of her parents,” Blix stated bitterly.
Martha looked away, not wanting to meet anyone’s eyes.
“Listen. I don’t want to start a fight or interrupt your life. I was quite content in you not being in my life. I get it. My mother… she was a leech. I understand why you left her… but you left me too. And my mother made sure… to let me know that I was not wanted,” She admitted, motioning to the scars on her face.
“I have spent the past 30 years without you. I can live the next 30 or so without you. Go back home. I don’t want you in my life,” She concluded firmly.
She stepped out of the conference room and made her way downstairs to the DEA department. She spotted Steve but no Javier, so she stole his seat.
She collapsed and sat rather lazily in the chair, slumped.
“Rough day?” Steve asked taking in her posture.
“Rough week. My psychotic mother passed, had to reconnect with my sisters, dealt with some bullshit over the will which led to an arrest for white collar, someone figured out who my father is, and he and his family are upstairs trying to deny everything,” She summarized.
“Can I hide here for a time?” She asked glancing over at him.
“Sure, if you help go through these transcripts,” Steve bargained holding a stack of papers.
“Deal,” She replied taking the stack.
She sat with him for an hour, going through transcripts and helping him find any leads.
Javier eventually appeared, raising an eyebrow at her in his chair. He pulled up another chair next to her, taking half of her remaining stack. She smiled at him, as he teasingly nudged her with his elbow. They quietly worked until Theo appeared.
“Hey boss, sorry to interrupt. Um. There’s someone asking for you upstairs?” Theo tells her.
She nodded her head, finishing the sentence she was on before standing up. She ruffled Javier’s hair with her hand and reached over to do the same to Steve.
“Bye guys. Good luck,” She said, following Theo.
Theo glanced at her a few times, when they stepped into the elevator.
“Please don’t ask,” She quietly pleaded.
“Ask what?” Theo asked acting confused.
She smiled appreciatively at him. When they got up to their floor, she paused when she sees her half-brother standing by their offices.
She made her way to him cautiously.
When she was finally before him, she greeted, “Hi.”
“Hey,” Came his voice, slightly raspy. “Can… can we talk?”
She nodded and led him to her office. “I’m sorry it’s kind of small.”
Her office barely had room for the 2 chairs and desk. He waved it off.
“So. I… I gotta say… I don’t know how to start this. Um. But I guess. The beginning is best? I’m Ajax. 30. Sagittarius. Hoping to be Governor when I grow up. And would love to get to know my older sister, if she’d let me?” He introduced, rubbing the back of his neck.
Blix smiled awkwardly, and followed suit, “Blix. 30. Scorpio. FBI agent, lead investigator of the art crimes division here in Colombia. And…I would love to know about my little brother too.”
She laughed when she realized after a moment, she was doing the same neck rub he did.
“We… have the same fidget behaviors,” She muttered.
“I hear you’re a fighter and a damn good one,” Ajax complimented.
“I hear you have a really good shot at being Governor. If I was in Georgia, I may have to vote for you,” She said to him.
“Listen. My mom…I’m sorry she made you feel that way when you were younger. My… Our dad will come around eventually. He just… was shocked to say the least,” Ajax apologized.
“Mh.” She was doubtful but didn’t say much to disagree.
They talked a few more minutes and exchanged numbers to keep in contact.
She had to have few more talks with the ambassador and president for the next three days to assure that this was not going to affect her job. Once she was finally free, she made her way back to Cali on a late flight.
When she landed, she was greeted by Diego who was waiting for her.
“Honestly, I’ve never been happier to see you. Would it be weird if I hugged you?” Blix politely asked as she stood in front of him.
Diego smirked and held his arms open to her. She hugged him, feeling relieved. They get into the car and started to drive. About halfway there she noticed something was off.
“Why are you being so quiet? What happened?” Blix questioned looking at him concerned.
“He didn’t want me to tell you… but you should know. There was an attempt against Pacho… Yesterday. Escobar’s men tried to kill him while he was playing soccer,” Diego explained not looking at her.
“But he’s okay, right?” She was worried.
“Yes. Shaken up. But fine,” He assured her.
She let that information sink in. She knew it was only a matter of time before an incident like this happened. She wasn’t quite sure what her reaction was going to be when she sees Pacho. She did know that Escobar had no idea who he was dealing with.
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storiesbymads · 4 years
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EIGHTEEN ( joe liebgott . )
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Y/N met Joe a few days after she graduated from high school. loosely based off the one direction song.
warnings: none but it gets kinda sad @ the end ig
wc: 4.3k
Graduation was days away and Y/N could feel the air escaping her lungs just thinking about it. She had been dreaming about this day for the past twelve years and it was actually happening. Although, now that it was here, the moment felt bittersweet. She was about to leave all the childhood friends she’d made for a junior college across the country in San Francisco. It was almost too surreal for her to handle. A week from now, she’d be somewhat situated in an apartment she’d only seen once without her parents or really anyone that she knew. She would be starting her life.
The last few days of senior year could not have gone by any slower. Final exams had been the week prior so the classes she was attending were really just excuses for all of her classmates and teachers to get emotional about the time they’d spent together. Y/N counted down the minutes until she could finally get out of there. While some of the girls she’d come to know as her best friends were allowing themselves to shed a tear or two and give close to a million hugs to people they’d shared maybe a conversation with in their time there, Y/N kept finding herself in her daydreams about what her new life was going to be like.
“I cannot believe it’s our last day of high school,” her friend Annabelle said. There were about twelve girls all scrunched up at one lunchroom table in an already overcrowded lunchroom. Thankfully, the number had dwindled slightly over the years and now Y/N at least had enough room to put her elbows on the table when she was eating.
“I know! I’m gonna miss you girls so much,” another girl named Cecile said. Y/N swore she saw the slightest hint of a tear in her eye as she said it. Y/N took a bite of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich without another word.
The amount of nerves surrounding her as she stood on the small auditorium stage astounded her. She attended a small school with her graduating class maxing out around 200 and yet the room felt like it was about to explode. All of the classmates around her were decked out in the signature royal blue of their highschool with bright smiles and hazy eyes from the brightly flashing cameras. Y/N fidgeted with the tassel on her cap as she waited for the ceremony to begin. A few of her friends were sitting a few feet away from her. The deafening heartbeat in her ears stopped her from being able to hear what they were talking about. It wasn’t until one of them nudged her ribs that she realized the lights had dimmed slightly and everything was starting.
The announcer’s speech, thankfully, hadn’t lasted longer than a few minutes and the graduates had started making their way across the stage. Before Y/N knew it, she was walking across the stage and shaking hands with the principal and various other administrators she’d come to know over the years. Her legs were numb and she was surprised--and very grateful--that she made it across the stage without so much as tripping. She even silently thanked her mother beforehand for discouraging her from wearing the three-inch pair of heels in her closet.
“The Class of 1936! Congratulations!” her principal announced as a wave of blue filled the air. There were graduation caps everywhere across the auditorium. It was going to be extremely difficult to tell whose was whose at the end of the day but that didn’t stop a single student from completing the tradition. One student’s cap even managed to land in the rafters for a few seconds before coming down.
It was difficult to locate her parents in the crowd in the moments after. Everything seemed to be simultaneously happening in slow motion and hyper speed since her first step across the stage. She spotted the top of her mother’s head across the room and rushed over to meet them. Both of her parents had been leaning up against the wall near the exit speaking to another couple until they noticed her semi-running towards them. Her father pulled her into a tight hug and made a comment about an eyelash messing with his eye the entire ceremony. She gave her mother a soft smile when he finally let her go. Her parents gave a small goodbye to the couple next to them and joined hands with their daughter on the way out of the highschool for seemingly the last time in their lives.
The sound of her alarm clock buzzing at 6:30 in the morning caused a loud groan to fall from Y/N’s lips as she begrudgingly pulled herself from the warmth of her duvet and into her adjoining bathroom to start her day. It was moving day. Well, technically. Most of her furniture had been shipped out to her apartment a few days prior but today was the official moving date. She had to be at the train station by 8:00 with the last of her belongings. Judging by the fact that Y/N was brushing her teeth with her eyes still very much closed, it was evident that she was very much regretting choosing the earliest departure time to San Francisco available.
Her two suitcases were packed and stacked next to the front door of her parents’ home and she kept glancing at them during the entire duration of breakfast. In her mind, she was going over every item that she needed to bring and checking the mental checklist she’d gone over about twenty times over the past two days. She knew it was overly redundant but she couldn’t bear the thought of forgetting something and not being able to retrieve it until the next major holiday. It was unlikely, though, that she would forget something as her childhood bedroom was practically barren save for the twin bed and the wire coat hangers in her closet.
“Honey, if you look at those suitcases one more time,” her mother lightly scolded. She was glad her daughter was so excited for something but she was still slightly bitter to the thought of her daughter leaving home so soon after graduation.
“I’m sorry! I can’t help it,” she sighed. The plate of eggs and bacon had barely been eaten--mostly just moved around with a fork--and was growing colder by the minute. Y/N knew she wouldn’t be able to eat with the amount of nerves building up in her stomach. She spared a final glance at the luggage
“Your mother’s right,” her father sighed and blew the steam off of his cup of coffee. Y/N was surprised to see the newspaper usually tightly clutched within her father’s fingers nowhere in sight.
“So, what’re your plans for the day?” Y/N asked after a few moments of silence. She had completely given up on her plate of food and had pushed it further towards the center of the table.
“Oh, you know. Mope around the house wishing our baby were still here with us,” her mother said dramatically, pretending to wipe a tear from her face.
“Very funny.”
“She’s not joking,” her father chuckled into his mug. It was odd to see him this way. Both of his hands were tightly wrapped around the white porcelain and he still had his reading glasses on rather than the contacts she was so accustomed to seeing. Come to think of it, her mother looked quite strange, too. She was still in her evening robe and had made no effort to remove the curlers from her hair.
“Are you not accompanying me to the train station?” Y/N asked. She watched her parents share knowing glances before they each turned towards her.
“Your father thinks it’s best if we say our goodbyes here. He knows I’ll cry like a banshee if we do it in public and he wants to spare you the embarrassment,” her mother said.
“Oh,” Y/N mumbled and glanced down at her fingers fiddling with the hem of the tablecloth. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Oh Honey-”
“We can come with you if you want!”
“No, no. Dad’s right. Plus, if you start crying I’m sure to start crying and then where would we be,” Y/N allowed an airy laugh to brush past her lips at the thought of her and her parents all crying and smushed together in a dysfunctional group hug.
Due to the fact that Y/N had taken probably the longest nap in her life on the train, her legs felt as stiff as the concrete beneath her feet as she tried (and failed) to make her way out of the station in a normal looking way. Every step looked more like a waddle combined with the luggage that felt ten times heavier getting off than getting on settled on either one of her shoulders.
“Need some help with that, doll?” One of the various taxi-cab drivers asked. It took her a second to locate which one was addressing her but it was easy enough to identify him when she noticed him quickly approaching her with a hand out.
“Uh,” she mumbled. “Yeah-Yes. That’d be great, thank you.”
“Just doing my job,” he sent her a wink as he helped her load the luggage into the trunk of the bright yellow vehicle. Y/N allowed herself to take in the appearance of the man as she got into the backseat and told him her destination. He was quite skinny but that didn’t take away from the overall build of him. In fact, it seemed to make her more attracted to him. His lips seemed to be plastered in a permanent smirk and his hair was way too perfect for him to just have thrown some gel in it and called it a day. It was good enough to land him a hair modeling gig, in her opinion.
“How long will you be staying?” the driver asked and made eye contact with her through the rear-view. His eyes had a mischievous glint to them.
“I don’t look like a regular to you?” she asked with mock offense.
“With that accent? Not a chance, dollface,” he said. They retained eye contact for a few more seconds before his sight flickered back to the road in front of him. Y/N was thankful for the added background noise of the radio at that point.
“You’re actually taking me to my new place,” Y/N said after a few moments of awkwards silence. She found herself fiddling with a slightly ripped piece of leather on the seat beneath her. She felt his eyes on her but by the time she looked back up at the mirror his eyes were focused on the road once more.
“How do you know I’m not a creepy stalker? Now I know where you live,” he joked as he reached a red light. She was able to get a good look at his eyes in the mirror now. The sunlight coming in from the windshield allowed her to notice the swirl of chocolate in his irises. Multiple car honks behind them startled the driver into pressing on the gas a little too quickly, startling Y/N and almost causing her to faceplant into the back of the seat.
“Sorry about that, doll,” he muttered and adjusted how he was sitting ever so slightly and allowed one of his hands to rest on the center console rather than the wheel.
“So, are you?” she asked.
“What?” his eyebrows scrunched together and his grip on the wheel tightened.
“Are you a stalker?” Y/N allowed herself to relax into the seats more. She didn’t really care if he was a stalker. She just never wanted him to stop talking.
“You’ll be glad to know that I am not, Miss…” he voice trailed off, obviously asking for her name.
“Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Joe Liebgott. Nice to make your acquaintance, dollface,” he sent her another wink through the mirror. Y/N felt her heart sink slightly when she noticed her apartment building only a few feet away.
By the time Joe had found a parking spot in front of the building, Y/N could feel her heart all the way in the souls of her feet. She had no idea why she was reacting this way. She had only known this man for, what, twenty minutes? And their one striking conversation had been about whether or not he was a stalker. She had no right to get this attached to him.
“You know,” he started. “I could give you a tour of the city if you’d like. You know, since you’re new and all.” He flashed her a million-dollar smile as he handed her the two pieces of luggage from the trunk.
“I think I would really enjoy that, Joe.” Her heart was beating so fast it could have jumped right out of her chest and made it back to her parents’ house before she was able to get inside her new apartment.
“Great,” he said. He opened up the passenger side of the cab so that he could reach into the glove box. He pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket and began scribbling on the blank side of the receipt he had just pulled out of the compartment before handing the small piece of paper to her. In very messy handwriting, she noticed he had written Joe (not a stalker, he promises) followed by a phone number and a smiley face below all of it.
“I’ll make sure to call you, Not-a-stalker-Joe.” Y/N’s face had heated up an extreme amount and she hoped that Joe wouldn’t think anything of it.
A few days passed before Y/N worked up the courage to actually call Joe. Maybe it was the fact that it was eleven o’clock at night. She always had been braver when she was tired. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t been able to get the cab driver out of her mind since he dropped her off at her place. Especially at night when she was alone with her thoughts. He got her head spinning and her heart racing without even being in the same room as her. She could only imagine what it would be like when she took him up on that tour offer.
“Hi, is this Joe?” she asked as politely as she could. She regretted calling the second he picked up.
“Depends…” his voice was raspier than it had been a few days ago. There was a possibility that Y/N had woken him up. “Who is this?”
“Y/N,” she said. Her nerves were skyrocketing at this point. The past week or so had not been easy on her heart.
“Who’s the stalker now?” he chuckled lightly into the phone. She heard rustling from the other side and assumed he was moving around on his bed. Having the phone by the bed seemed like a smart idea to her and she wondered why she hadn’t thought of moving hers there.
“You gave me your number, you know,” she said, twirling the cord around her finger.
“For a tour of the city. Not a late night rendezvous,” he said.
“I’m sorry. I can call again in the morning.” Her face was burning with embarrassment; the pressure managed to trail all the way down her spine, it seemed.
“No, doll, don’t worry about it. It had been a pretty boring night anyway,” Joe sighed. Y/N could imagine him running his hand through his hair. Then the image of running her hands through his hair popped into her mind.
“So, about that tour?” she asked. She really hoped she wasn’t being too forward. He was the one that offered.
“You up for it? Tomorrow’s my off day so you called just in time,” he said.
Y/N was barely able to sleep an hour that night. She didn’t know if it was the nerves (it was) or if it was the seemingly endless downpour of rain outside. After her fifth wake up, she decided trying to sleep was a lost cause. She slipped out of bed and out of her bedroom into the open concept of the rest of her apartment. The clock on the wall beside her stove let her know that it was edging on 4:15. Somehow, she managed to turn on her coffee pot and actually make herself some in her zombie-like state. She felt the liquid warm her right down to the tips of her toes.
Around 7am Y/N was beginning to regret skipping out on anymore sleep. Her eyes were droopy and she could barely keep them open long enough to read more than a paragraph on the morning paper. She figured this would be as good a time as any to start getting ready. She probably should’ve worked out a better plan with Joe before hanging up last night; she had zero percent of a clue as to when he would be picking her up that morning.
Y/N’s shower lasted longer than usual due to her starting the whole ordeal by just standing under the hot water with her eyes closed for about ten minutes. She’d even let her mind wander to thinking about Joe being in said shower with her but quickly shook the thought away as she began applying her coconut scented body wash. By the time she was finished, the originally scalding water was beginning to grow cold and Y/N was practically shivering trying to push the hot-water knob past its limit.
She decided to fix herself a third cup of coffee after getting dressed to aid her in doing her makeup in a way that wouldn’t make her look like a raccoon. A few years ago she had tried to do a Smokey eye after about three hours of sleep and she was not going for a recreation of that this morning.
9am was beginning to roll around when she heard a knock on her door.
“Morning, doll,” Joe said when she opened the door. He had his hair slicked back and a collared shirt left unbuttoned about three buttons.
“How’d you know which apartment was mine?” She chuckled lightly. She could have sworn he hadn’t followed her up to her door the previous day but she could’ve been wrong.
“I watched from my car to make sure you got in okay. I was really hoping I remembered which door it was and didn’t go knocking on some old lady’s door,” he said and ran one of his hands through the gelled hair. Y/n glanced over the balcony of the complex to see the bright yellow taxi parked in the exact spot it was in yesterday.
“That was very sweet of you, Joe,” both of them had a slight red tint to their faces as they made their way down the stairs and to the taxi. He opened the door for her before jogging around the front of the car to get in himself.
“The best tour of your life begins now,” he said before starting the car up.
“So how old did you say you were?” Joe asked after about twenty minutes of awkward silence.
“18. You?” Y/N said. She really hoped he wasn’t 37 or something or this whole ordeal would have gotten really awkward really fast.
“21,” he said and turned down the radio knob ever so slightly. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about how nice his fingers looked. “Now our first stop…”
It had been months since Y/N had first met Joe but she swore it felt like the pair had known each other forever. She felt more comfortable around him than anyone else she had ever met. They went on one or two more dates after their tour before Joe asked her to be his girlfriend. Everything between them was moving incredibly fast for Y/N’s usual tastes but she couldn’t be happier at the given moment. Joe made her feel alive. Her fingertips burned with every touch and her insides were practically doing backflips any time he complimented her or so much as held eye contact with her.
“Good morning doll face,” Joe said with his raspy morning voice that Y/N adored more than anything. She groaned with displeasure at being roused from her sleep but she gave him a soft smile when she finally opened her eyes. Joe was running his fingertips lightly across Y/N’s bare back as the thin sheets of his bed covered their lower halves. Her hand moved from being placed at the top of his abdomen to gently stroking his jaw. There was the faintest of stubble growing in and she would never tell him how much she really loved it.
“Morning, handsome,” she mumbled into his chest. She began trailing kisses from his chest up to his collarbone and back down again. Joe used his free hand to stop her antics and pull her face up to kiss his lips this time. In a few short moments, Joe was able to flip the pair of them to where he was resting over Y/N with one of his hands beside Y/N’s shoulder to support his weight and the other securely positioned on her jaw.
“That was a very good way to wake up,” she said and ran her thumb across his slightly swollen lips. He let out a soft laugh before poking her in the side and laying down on the bed beside her.
“I think I’m going to go get a shower. Care to join me?” He asked with a smirk. They had showered together before but it had never ended with them cleaner than when they entered.
“Not today, baby,” she said, which earned a very over exaggerated groan from Joe as he forced himself out of bed and into the connected bathroom.
She, too, pulled herself out of the bed and grabbed Joe’s button up off of the floor and buttoned it up just enough to cover all the necessities. She heard the creak of the hot water knob as she exited the bedroom to make herself some much needed coffee. Neither had gotten the recommended 8 hours of sleep and she was wondering how Joe was able to be so animated about everything already.
Their one-year anniversary came around faster than anything that Y/N had ever experienced. One day she was living in her parents home desperate to graduate from high school and now she was living in her boyfriend’s apartment (unbeknownst to her parents) and celebrating a whole year of dating. And it had been the most magical year of Y/N’s life.
“More wine?” Joe asked her as he pulled himself off of the couch. Y/N whined slightly as her side was hit with a gust of cold wind.
“Yes, please,” she said and handed up her empty wine glass.
“You got it, doll,” he sent her a wink and went into the kitchen to fill both their glasses. Y/N couldn’t help but watch him the whole time. She never thought that she’d be this head over heels for a man— especially this far along in a relationship. Before Joe, the longest she’d had a boyfriend had been about two months and they barely even talked during that time.
Joe glanced over at her from the kitchen just barely making eye contact with her before Y/N shifted her gaze to the record player in the corner of the room near the small television. It had been playing static for about an hour now but the both of them were too comfortable to care enough about flipping it.
“I love you, Joe,” Y/N said after a few more moments of silence. There was a loud crash in the kitchen that caused her to surge up from her seat and rush over. Before she was able to bend down to clean up any of the broken glass, though, Joe pulled her in by the hips to smash his lips against hers.
“Say it again,” he said when he pulled away with the biggest grin Y/N had ever seen.
“I love you, Joe.”
“I love you, Y/N/N. So much,” he pulled her in for another kiss, sidestepping around the broken wine glass to set her on the kitchen counter and placing himself between her thighs. His hands trailed from her hips to rest on the sides of her knees.
Almost four years had passed since then. Joe was set to leave for boot camp this afternoon and Y/N was barely functioning at this point. He had become such an integral part of her life since she arrived in San Francisco. She had no idea what she would do if he didn’t come back to her. Hell, she barely had a clue what she would do if he did come back to her. She knew nothing would be the same after all of this.
“I’ll write to you whenever I get the chance, baby doll. I promise,” he mumbled into her hair. Y/N had not left his side once in the past week and she didn’t plan on leaving it until he was on that train.
“I’m going to miss you so much, Joey,” she said.
“I know. I’m gonna miss you too.”
“I’ve loved you since I was 18 years old, Joe. I’m 22 now and somehow I love you more and more each day. Promise me you’ll come home to me,” she said. There were tears beginning to leak out of the corners of her eyes. He wiped one away with the pad of his thumb.
“I promise to try as hard as I can to come home to you, baby doll,” he said and pressed another kiss to her hair.
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athenaquinn · 3 years
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Fix Me Up || Ariana & Athena
TIMING: Somewhere between 1:30am and 2:30am, October 20th, after the birthday chatzies (x, x)  LOCATION: Ariana’s apartment PARTIES: @letsbenditlikebennett and @athenaquinn SUMMARY: Soft™ CONTENT: Discussions of Emotional and Physical Abuse, discussions of death, panic attack
She had murdered her parents. Helped to, at least. Athena didn’t know what to do about that, she only knew that every time she closed her eyes she could see it, even though Nic had helped deal with the aftermath, somewhat. She only knew that she had to find somewhere to be so that she would be safe, so that she and Rio wouldn’t be the primary suspects. She knew that she had changed and she ran her fingers over the soft fabric of her sweater, against the cool feeling of her black jeans. Her hip ached where she had cut it against the marble countertop, but it was at least bandaged, and if push came to shove, she could wave it away as a soccer injury. Worse than any she’d gotten before - namely because it wasn’t a soccer injury, but it was an easy explanation. One that would also heal soon enough, she hoped. Her brother’s injury would be harder to explain, but she couldn’t focus on that right now. She had to believe that he was safe, and she had to find somewhere to go. Her mouth was dry and there were still times when she felt like she was going to pass out. It was too much to process, everything that had just happened, mere hours before. Was it hours? She didn’t know.
What she did know was that Ariana was the only person she could go to. Athena didn’t even think about what that meant about anything, only that she trusted Ariana more than just about anyone in the entire world. She drove her car on autopilot, grateful that she’d at least been by the other girl’s house before. She hadn’t brought much - too much would be suspicious, but too little would be just as odd. So she had pajamas, a change of clothes, a toothbrush, and all her schoolbooks. A favorite childhood photo of her and her brother was tucked into a copy of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, which she and Ariana were still in the middle of reading. It had been there beforehand, but Athena found herself glancing over to it repeatedly. She pulled up outside of Ariana’s apartment building and grabbed her things, nearly dropping her overnight bag onto the pavement as she did so. As if on autopilot, Athena made her way up to Ariana’s floor and to her door. She banged on the door a few times, and the second her friend opened it, she blurted out, “Can I please stay over? I - please?” Athena knew that her eyes must have still been wide with some variant of panic or worry, mixed with still not being quite there. She didn’t even remember much of what had happened, everything felt fuzzy and her body felt heavy and numb. Doing her best to level her breath, she offered a shaky smile to Ariana. “I know it’s very late - I - I’m sorry. I woke you up, didn’t I?”
Some time between throwing on Master Chef and getting in bed, Ariana had actually managed to fall asleep. She found it’d been harder to come by lately, but having Luna pressed up against her in bed made it easier somehow. A curt bark from Luna had actually pulled her out of a thankfully dreamless sleep and she slowly sat up in the bed, confused. She heard a banging sound on her door and quickly hopped out of her bed. It was dark out so it had to be late so if someone was showing up, it had to be an emergency. She could smell Athena before she even reached the door and her brows knit together in confusion. Recognition made her feet move more quickly toward the door and she carefully opened it to reveal Athena. She didn’t look good. By every indication, she seemed drained and almost detached in a way that felt familiar. “Come in,” she whispered and stepped aside giving her room to come in. The last person she expected on her doorstep this late was Athena which meant it had to be bad. “You’re always welcome here,” she assured and added, “Don’t worry, I’d probably get-- I haven’t been sleeping well. Just, you don’t have to be sorry.” She gestured toward the shelf by the couch, “You can set your stuff down over there. I’m going to get some water, okay? And tea, I have chamomile tea!”
While she had no idea what happened, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Athena had just been through hell. Ariana knew she couldn’t make that completely go away, but she could help take care of her and give her a safe space. She stared blankly at the wall for a moment as she waited for the water in the kettle to come to a boil. The shock of seeing Athena had woken her up, but there was this tugging feeling in her that she was the last person who’d be able to really help. If Athena was in danger, it felt like she’d somehow just make it worse like she had for Ace. She felt a twang in her chest as the whistle of the kettle alerted her that the water was done. She quickly poured the water over the tea and brought it over to the coffee table along with some water bottles and crackers. “Here, drink this,” she said as she pushed the tea toward her friend. Immediately questioning her didn’t feel quite right, so she gave her a minute. She knew better than most that some things were too heavy to speak of freely and whatever Athena was carrying seemed to weigh her down. “Are you okay,” she asked with concern evident in her tone.
She wanted to collapse to the floor when Ariana opened the door. She didn’t. Athena moved inside, unsure of her movements. She was usually so sure, so precise. She knew exactly how to move her body - but not now. Though she was doing better than she had been even half an hour ago, she still felt dazed, still felt unsure and confused. She moved automatically, without thinking - a glance over to Ariana and a small nod before she went and dumped her luggage on the floor by the couch. “Thank you.” She pressed her tongue firmly against the roof of her mouth. She wanted to scream. “Okay.” She called out, just barely loud enough for Ariana to hear. Should she have come here? Was this implicating Ariana in what she’d done? Ariana didn’t deserve that. Didn’t deserve to be brought into this. If Athena was arrested - even brought into the precinct as a person of interest, would Ariana be in trouble too? Athena had to remind herself that she wasn’t technically a fugitive, and she collapsed onto the couch, elbows pressed into her thighs and hands pressed against her face. She wasn’t sure if she could even cry anymore.
Before she could let herself get too caught back up in her thoughts, Ariana had returned and Athena sat up, grabbing the mug of tea in her hands and relishing the warmth. She felt so cold. “I - can - do you have a blanket?” She wasn’t sure if she was in shock or not. She had been, undoubtedly, right after the fact. She wasn’t sure if it had worn off yet. She took a sip of the tea, letting it sit on her tongue. Took a deep breath. She wasn’t having a panic attack, not quite - but she did her best to count - what she could smell - the tea, Ariana’s shampoo. What she could taste. The chamomile tea. “Thank you.” She wasn’t sure she’d ever thanked someone quite so many times in such a short period of time, or ever. “No.” She swallowed her tea and put the mug down on the coffee table. “I - I need to have been here all night.” She shook her head. Toed her overnight bag. She could smell the soap on her own skin. Her hands were red. “You’d say I was, right? If someone asked you?” She pressed her palms against her thighs, tears threatening to fall again. No. She refused to cry for her parents again. They had taken far too much from her already, she wasn’t going to let them control her any longer. “I - I did something, Ariana.” She could see their bodies even without closing her eyes and she felt like she was going to be sick. “I can’t - I don’t know if -” She bit her lip sharply, just enough to feel something. “It was bad. I had to. But it - nobody can know.”
In that moment, Ariana would have given Athena just about anything she could have asked for. There was no hiding that her night had been rough and she felt a hint of sadness as she remembered it was her birthday merely hours ago. The birthday she shared with both Celeste and Rio-- the former wasn’t around to enjoy it so she’d held out hope that Athena and Rio had a nice evening. It was more than evident that it wasn’t and she was quick to retrieve the fuzzy blanket Nell had brought over a few weeks ago. “Here,” she said softly as she draped the blanket over her, “Is there anything else I can get you?” Would she want a pillow too? She wasn’t overflowing with pillows but she would gladly share what she had. The next thing Athena said made her freeze for a moment. She needed to have been here all night which meant something that could get her in trouble must have happened. This was something she understood well enough seeing as she had almost had some legal trouble herself after what happened with the Aquillas. “Understood,” she assured. Whatever happened, she wasn’t about to throw Athena under the bus. Not when she had just narrowly escaped being arrested herself. “I can do that. You were here with me all night. We planned a sleepover for your birthday. We watched Moana and a few episodes of Master Chef,” Ariana listed out the night’s events as if they actually happened. Still, she couldn’t shake the millions of questions that were rising off. Especially as she said she did something bad. She frowned slightly wondering just what that could have been. “Athena,” she spoke softly, “What happened? You can tell me. I won’t tell anyone or think any less of you. I just want to help.” She meant as much, no matter what the answer was. With how much she’d lost already, Ariana was holding those who were still alive and in her life extra near and dear. If Athena needed her support, even if it was something terrible that she’d done, she could provide it. Help her navigate through it the best she could. All she could hope is that it wasn’t too bad.
“Thank you.” The weight of the blanket was comforting, even if she still felt like she was going to start shivering. Athena shook her head. “No - this - this is enough.” She was supposed to have gone somewhere, but why was she bringing Ariana into this? She didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve any of the potential fallout. Athena knew that she could have just as easily gone to her sorority house, it would’ve been easy to just claim she was there all night. However, something told her that Ariana was the only real option for this situation. “I know. I -” she bit her lip again. The confirmation that what she was saying at least made some sense was comforting. Not entirely, but given everything that had happened, she was willing to take anything she could get.
“I was. Master Chef sounds nice. I heard there’s a new season of the Great British Bake Off too.” Athena used a shaking hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “We had too many snacks, but I ate all the carrots so you didn’t have to.” In any other situation, she would have laughed, made some sort of joke, but she couldn’t find it in her heart to do so. No matter how much she appreciated all that her friend was doing, all that she was saying. Athena found one of the corners of the blanket and picked at it, gaze intently focused there and not on Ariana. She couldn’t look at her. She owed her honesty. That was what the two of them did, and she didn’t regret any of it. “I killed my parents.” She was going to be sick. She could still see their bodies on the floor, she could smell the soap that made her hands red. She could smell her shampoo - from whenever it was that she last washed her hair. She - “They were going to kill my brother.” She bit her tongue. “They were going to kill us both. I - I had to.” Though her brother had certainly played at least an equal part, she couldn’t take him down with her. Whatever they’d said to one another back at their house, she wasn’t going to put blame on him. “They - it wasn’t because they are hunters.” She finally looked up at Ariana. “Were. Sorry. Were.” With another careful breath, she added, “it’s because of everything they did. Everything they did that I didn’t even know about. I’m supposed to be smart. How did I miss - how?” She grabbed the mug of tea and took another sip, letting it lay heavy on her tongue before she swallowed. “I killed them. I had to. I am supposed to protect the world, it is what I was born to do. I had to protect my brother. I can’t - I can’t live without him, I don’t think.” She took in the feeling of the blanket between her fingers. “That’s - that’s why I need to have been here. I wasn’t - I can’t - not at home.”
Under any other circumstance, Ariana would have found this exchange to be humorous, but given Athena’s current state it was hard to feel anything outside of worry. All she knew was that she would follow this story and do everything in her power to keep Athena safe. So much loss had hit in her the past few months, she’d do just about anything to protect the people she loved and somewhere along the line, despite everything, Athena became one of those people. When Athena answered her question, it took everything in her power to keep her jaw from dropping. Maybe it shouldn’t have come as a surprise considering what happened with Celeste’s parents, but she couldn’t imagine Athena and Rio also having to go through that. She reached her hand out before remembering the tension Athena radiated the last time she touched her. “Can I,” she asked softly. “I’m so sorry, Athena. I know-- That’s really shitty and so rough and neither you or Rio deserved to go through that. I know you were just trying to protect your brother.” The same way Celeste had just been trying to protect her. She hated this so much. From her own experiences, she knew well enough there was nothing she could say or do to make this better no matter how much she wanted to take her friend’s pain away. Sadness was present in her own eyes as she stayed there with her friend. “You don’t have to explain the why to me. I trust you wouldn’t have done that if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Not realizing the things they did without telling you sooner doesn’t make you any less smart,” she tried to assure knowing nothing she possibly said or did in this moment would take away any of the pain Athena was feeling. “I know,” she responded, “You did what you had to do and if anyone asks, you’ve been here with me all night.”
Her parents would have wanted her to hate Ariana. Her parents would have wanted her to act on that hate, too - but she couldn’t. Athena had felt confused and nearly sick when she found out what Ariana was, and she knew that she was supposed to kill anyone who was supernatural, but the girl who was seated next to her on the couch was different. Always had been, she mused for a moment. “You can.” She didn’t want to flinch when people touched her. Her parents had hugged her, and been kind and gentle - usually. Except when they weren’t, though she’d never paid attention to that. It didn't matter, because it was all to better the world, to help train her to be her very best self. Ariana was good, and any help she offered would be genuine. Even though her side still ached - she was just grateful that she had quick enough healing that she wouldn’t need to go to the hospital. The hospital where her father worked - used to work. Still did, she supposed, since there hadn’t been any reports to the authorities yet. Unless one of their neighbors had already found their parents? She grabbed onto the corner of the blanket and pressed it against her mouth. She wasn’t going to scream. She could have screamed at home, but not here. She didn’t know how sound-proof Ariana’s walls were, but she doubted it was like at home. She had to be calm. She had to be rational. “I can’t live without him.” She finally managed to reply. “So I had to.” She felt a shiver run through her body and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “I had to. There was no other way out. They were going to kill us.” She let her eyes flick open, the scene still too vivid in her mind. “I should’ve seen it, though. I - they -” she let her hand settle next to Ariana’s, “they’ve done this our whole lives. They made us who they wanted. Not even - I mean, of course with hunting, but  I think - Ri said, implied, whatever - with everything?” She shook her head, her hair spilling over her shoulders. It felt heavy, and she dropped the edge of the blanket in favor of playing with her hair. “I - thank you. I really - this means more than I can say. I did what I had to do. What I needed to do. I was born to protect from threats, and they were that. I - I guess.” She cleared her throat. “Would - do you need to sleep? I don’t want to put you out anymore than I already have.” She wanted to hug her, she found herself realizing. She often flinched away from hugs, the only ones she really gave were superficial, more for putting on a front than anything else. She adjusted her body, shifting so that she wasn’t facing away quite as much as she had been before. Open if Ariana wanted to hug her, but she wouldn't force anything. Anyone. Not right now, at least. “The tea is just right.” She said, biting her lip.
There was something about seeing Athena like this that tugged at her heartstrings. Ariana had always known Athena to be one of the most incredibly put together people she’d ever met. In so many ways, she seemed untouchable just because of the way she carried herself and she admired that about her. Ariana herself typically wore her heart on her sleeve and was not convincing when she tried to do things any other way. Athena’s current state didn’t change how she saw her in the slightest, it just gave her a new sense of sorrow and showed her just how strong Athena really was. At the indication it was okay to reach out to her and try and provide some comfort, she gave Athena’s shoulder a gentle and reassuring squeeze. “I’m here, okay? Whatever you need, I’m here. And you can stay here as long as you’d like,” she told her and the earnest look on her face conveyed just how much she meant it. Anger rose up within her, but none of it toward Athena. How could her parents want to hurt either her or Rio? Orion had been one of the kindest people she had the pleasure of calling her friend and in the same situation, she would have done whatever was necessary to defend him. “I know you did,” she agreed, “I would have done the same thing.” Maybe she needed to hear it, maybe she didn’t, but Ariana knew killing her parents had to come with some sort of guilt that would be hard to push down. Though it seemed to be stemming from not realizing just who her parents were. “Hey,” she soothed, “They were your parents. Of course you wanted to-- I don’t know, I think it makes sense you wanted to see the good in them, you know? What’s important is you realized they weren’t great before it was too late.” Not that she’d ever met the Quinns’ parents, but she did know she’d much prefer to see Rio and Athena alive over either of them, especially if they were shitty enough to try and kill their own children. At the mention of going back to sleep, Ariana shook her head. “I can stay up for a bit. I’ve been sleeping like shit anyway,” she answered with a shrug. As much had been true. Ever since Sammy died, her dreams had become even more haunted than they had been previously. Her subconscious seemed to love to remind her that she had gotten two people she loved dearly killed. Right now, she opted to give Athena her full attention. “I’m glad,” she responded. Tea wasn’t a cure all by any means, but she’d give Athena any comfort she was able to provide. Her body language seemed to indicate being open to touch so she wrapped her arms loosely around Athena, unsure of any injuries she may have sustained. Her hand gently stroked Athena’s long, blonde hair and she held her there for a moment. “You’re going to get through this, okay? You’re one of the strongest people I know and even though this probably hurts like hell right now, you’re not alone and things are going to get better.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “Okay.” She repeated, as if one time wasn’t enough. As if she had to say everything with greater certainty, because if she said it once it might not be real. It might have been something she just imagined. Athena couldn’t remember a single time in her life when she’d ever felt so uncertain. Not even on the first day of proper school - no, even then she’d marched up to the teacher, told them her name and spelled it out. Grabbed her brother by the hand and made sure he was all settled too. Now, though - now everything felt like it was seconds away from crumbling. She could still smell her mother’s gingerbread. Olfactory hallucinations certainly weren’t a good sign, but even in the midst of everything she understood that everything that was going on was overwhelming and that this was some sort of response to it; perhaps a failed attempt at comfort. A memory that was mostly good, that allowed her to see her family as good and normal. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to eat gingerbread again. Athena also knew that this was the absolute last thing that she should have been focusing on, but everything else was overwhelming and made her head spin. Ariana was grounding, though - she gave Athena something to focus on. “I know. It’s - we have to protect the people we care about, right?” She took in another deep breath. Counted back from ten before she spoke next. “I worshiped them. Their word is as good as divine. That was - well, they implied as much, and church certainly does, too.” Church. Another place where people would be asking questions. She was supposed to teach Sunday School this week. There was too much to focus on and she missed the second half of what Ariana was saying for a moment. “What? Oh - yes. I - I still realized quite late though. I guess it’s just - I’m supposed to know, I should’ve known before. They knew - they hide - hid - well. I should show you our family photos.” She felt her cheeks growing wet. “We look like a picture-perfect All-American family. We were, I thought.” She nodded. “Well, if you need help, a kid I used to babysit used to have nightmares and I know some good ways to get anyone to sleep.” Except myself. “Just not so great at self-application of that, I suppose. You know how Ri used to have to hold me when I was little and woke up from all sorts of nightmares? I - I don’t think of you like a kid, I just mean - well, I know some tips.”
Ariana wrapped her arms around her body and Athena practically felt her whole body relax. Not entirely, but far more than she had been previously. Ariana’s hands through her hair felt exceptionally nice. Gentle, but a firm reminder that they were both there, that Athena had someone who mattered to her and who she mattered to as well. “Okay.” She swallowed, letting her body relax. Willing it to permit relaxation. She was still more tense - more on edge - than she wished to be, but she was safe. Even if her parents were still alive (and they weren’t, she had checked their pulses, she had - she knew they weren’t), they didn’t know about Ariana, and certainly didn’t know where she lived. Which meant she was safe here. “I might need to stay here for a bit. I won’t intrude, and I can cook for you, and clean, and organize, and anything - but I - I don’t - can’t go back home. Not even sure if we’ll be allowed on the property. So - you said I could, right?” She bit her lip and looked up at Ariana. “I’m sorry for talking so much. I haven’t - I think I stopped, for a bit. But now - well, you’ve always been easy to talk to.”
All Ariana wanted was to take some of Athena’s pain away. There was no escaping this pain though, that much she knew. Grief and loss had been something she’d been entirely too familiar with as of late. Guilt even moreso, particularly when it came to Celeste and Ace, but right now was hardly about her. She could surmise some of what Athena was feeling and all she wanted to do was help carry some of it. There was no way of making any of this feel okay, but she could at the very least do what she could to bring her some small sense of comfort and safety in a time that likely felt uncertain and terrifying. Even now, she seemed to carry this better than most would, her strength somehow radiating even at what had to be her lowest point. Athena would get through this, she’d make sure of it in whatever way she could. Maybe she had failed others she loved before, but this she could do. She could be here. She could give her somewhere safe and comfortable to stay until things blew over. There was an air of uncertainty to Athena’s voice when she spoke and she stayed close. “We do,” she agreed, ignoring the own pit in her stomach as the thought of her own failure to protect people she loved. “Rio doesn’t-- He’s so good. You did the right thing, protecting him,” she said as soothingly as possible.
It was easier for Ariana to focus on helping Athena than her own guilt right now. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Even if there were signs, they were your parents. It had to be easy to see them as this all knowing force. You realized what they were before it was too late and you and Rio are both still here and alive.” She was dying to ask how Rio was doing, but it seemed like the worst possible time. She’d text him and Winston later. The story she told of her and Rio as kids would have been endearing had it been under any other circumstance. She didn’t even mind her using the same tactics she used to help with kids’ nightmares. “I didn’t think you thought I was. If it helps, I’d be okay to give it a try. That sounds really, sweet. If you need-- the sofa pulls out into a pretty comfortable bed, but if your own nightmares get bad, we can share mine. I used to share a bed with Celeste a lot, too. So much so that when we finally could afford two, it felt odd to sleep alone.” She looked down momentarily, trying to regather her thoughts before she added, “I just want you to feel safe and comfortable which I know may not be possible with what just happened, but anything at all I can do to help and I’ll do it.”
Ariana held Athena close to her knowing it was one of the few things she could do to help lighten the burden her friend now carried. She could feel some of the tension leaving Athena and held on just a little bit tighter to let her know that she had her through this and neither of them was alone. Maybe she needed this a little bit, too. The guilt of Ace’s death had still weighed heavily on her and she had no one but her idiotic self to blame. At least this, she could get right and Athena didn’t need her saving. Athena could save the day well enough without her, but even the strongest of people needed someone to rely on from time to time. Now was her time and she immediately responded, “Of course, I meant that. You’re always welcome here. You couldn’t possibly intrude. You don’t have to do any of that if you don’t want to, but I know you like cooking. We can take turns, but please don’t feel like you have to do anything. Being here for you is important to me.” Even though she had pulled away now, she gave Athena’s shoulder another gentle squeeze. “You never have to apologize for talking too much. I’ve always enjoyed listening to you and I think talking about things helps. I just want to be here for you in whatever way I can, okay?”
“I had to.” She answered again, still far too simply for the gravity of what had happened. Part of her wanted to tell Ariana everything that had happened, but Athena still couldn’t bring herself to cause her brother any sort of trouble. Even to someone like Ariana, who she knew she could trust implicitly, Athena just couldn’t bring herself to do so. “You - that means a lot.” She willed her breath to even out, to return to its resting rate. Instead of feeling entirely caught in her throat consistently. She knew that she could breathe, because she could talk and she could feel her breath, but it wasn’t anything close to what was normal. Yet the feeling of someone else near her, the feeling of Ariana’s body heat ensuring that she didn’t get too cold. She didn’t often run cold, but right now she couldn’t quite figure out just how she was feeling.
“I know. I-” Athena gulped in another breath of air. “It doesn’t mean that I don’t feel like some sort of idiot. I guess, well - I’ve never not known things, and this is one heck of a thing to not know, even if I can’t be blamed. Everyone wants to see the best in their parents.” She always had - no matter what. Even when there had been a subtle shift after her brother had left her home. Even when there had been signs before, now that she looked back on it. Long-buried nightmares, ones that she’d ignored and passed off for some manifestation of the fear of being killed by the supernatural. Which she’d had, even as a child, but Athena knew that there had been a small part of her that had been afraid of her parents. Being afraid and worshipping them all in one. “It’s handy, having techniques. And good. Because I’d never think of you as a kid. You’re a lot more than that to me.” She looked over to Ariana for a moment, a soft smile crossing her lips. “Sofa bed sounds alright, but I mean - if you want, staying in your bed could be good. I don’t really know how I’m going to sleep. I should be asleep already. It was just - birthday tradition, first of all, and then - well.” She grabbed her phone, looking at the time. “I think maybe the same bed. If you are really sure that you’d be okay with that. I don’t take up too much space, and you’re warm.” She grinned again, her body relaxing. “When I was little, sometimes my brother would have to come into my bed when I had bad dreams. You - well, I’d like that.” She nodded again. It would be good, and though she wasn’t sure she would sleep at all tonight or anytime soon, she did know that having Ariana around was something that made her relax without even having to think twice. “I appreciate that. You. I appreciate you.”
The pressure still felt good, it was still a solid reminder that they were both here, both present and real and safe. Athena sighed again, closing her eyes for a few moments. Willing herself to not see anything but darkness. That was all there was - seeing visions of what had happened weren’t going to do anyone any good. “I’d like to stay here very much, then. I’m not sure if I can go back, legally? I - the police. The police will go and it’s - well, it’s a crime scene.” She brushed her fingers against her nose. “I’d like to cook. I - I’ve been experimenting, and it’s nice. It’s even and logical and helps keep my mind off of things. So I’d be happy to cook. Or buy you take out, if you want.” She didn’t know how much money she had in her wallet, or if anything with her bank account would be frozen, but the offer was one she couldn’t help but mention. As Ariana pulled away, Athena gave her a nod as she squeezed her shoulder. “I think - I might not make a lot of sense, always - with all of this, I mean. But talking is good. Even if it doesn’t always follow my usual logic.” In any other situation, she would have winked at the other girl, but she couldn’t manage all of that just now.
As much as Ariana knew herself that Athena was anything but an idiot, she knew the feeling well. It was hard to not blame yourself in the wake of disaster, to go over every little thing you could have done differently, but hadn’t, that may have led to a different outcome. She’d done it herself with Celeste and Ace almost regularly since they had both died. How was she supposed to tell Athena not to do the same thing? Maybe it was all part of the grieving process, which she should have known by heart at this point, but still, every time it left her reeling. “I think it’s normal to feel that way. I have when… well, a lot of times. Like I should have seen things sooner,” Ariana started as she remembered something Morgan said, “I think maybe thinking of things we could have done differently makes it easier. Makes it feel like we have any sort of control over anything but ourselves. A friend told me that once. It makes sense, but it’s still hard to ignore that feeling. And it’s okay if you can’t. I’m still here, no matter what.”
While she never thought it was an issue, it was still good to hear that Athena didn’t think of her as a kid. Ariana considered them to be good friends at this point though their relationship did perplex her from time to time. Still, Athena wouldn’t be here right now if she hadn’t considered her to be someone she could trust. “I’m glad you don’t,” she answered easily, still staying close to her friend and ready to jump on anything she could possibly need. The sofa bed worked out fine if that's what she preferred, though toward the end of Athena’s statement, it sounded like she wanted to join her. She nodded slowly and assured, “Whatever is most comfortable for you. I’ll sleep just about the same either way.” Although probably even better with her there. Maybe the nightmares wouldn’t be so bad. “I can set it up out here still just in case you get uncomfortable or need some space. I know this stuff is… well, difficult to pinpoint how you’ll feel from one moment to the next.” The story of how Rio used to come sleep with her when she had nightmares did bring a small smile to her face. Celeste had always been a source of comfort for her, too. “Rio is pretty sweet like that, huh? I think maybe it’d help us both with nightmares, but please, don’t hesitate to use the sofa bed if that’s more comfortable for you, okay?” She was quick to add, “I appreciate you, too.”
Ariana hoped she wouldn’t have to turn to Jane for this one and that Athena and Rio could both get away with this without suspicion being cast their way. “That makes sense. The police would have it shut off. I really do mean it, you’re always welcome here, Athena,” she responded in a tone she could only hope was soothing. “You know I’ll never complain about you cooking, but please don’t feel like you have to, okay? I enjoy cooking, too.” The last thing Ariana was for Athena to feel obligated to her in any sort of way. So many had shown her kindness after Celeste and Winn had died. She hadn’t really told anyone about Ace just yet, but she was sure she’d still be met with warm and open arms that she didn’t deserve by too many people. The least she could do was show someone she cared for the same care others had given her. Hell, if even if she hadn’t been through the ringer, she was sure she’d still be willing to help Athena. The honesty they shared with each other was something she valued and Athena had shown on more than one occasion she cared for her as well. If only Ariana had been smart enough to accept her help back then, maybe Ace would still be alive today. That caused a lump to rise in her throat that she quickly swallowed back down. “You never have to worry about that with me. Shit like this is hard to make sense of. Some time to figure things out is normal. Even if your logic is never truly the same, that’s still okay, too.” Somehow, even seeing Athena like this, it felt better to have her here. She’d hardly left her apartment outside of class and work since Ace had died. She’d been avoiding mostly everyone and she hadn’t realized just how lonely that had become. “Come on,” she directed in the most gentle voice possible as she gestured toward the bedroom, “I think we could both probably use some sleep.”
“I’m sorry you ever had to feel this way.” It’s practically unbearable. It was the worst that Athena had ever felt in her entire life. She felt guilty, and she couldn’t remember when she last felt guilt. Not proper guilt, at least. “I guess I’m a bit blinder about some things than I could’ve ever thought. Would’ve ever.” She scrunched up her nose, moving around, doing her best to not start crying again. “It is hard to ignore. Whatever friend you have, they’re wise.” She adjusted her posture again, and took another sip of tea. It was getting colder now, but the flavor was still good, and it was more for the comfort of having something to do more than anything else, though the warmth had been good too. Being cold was uncomfortable, even though she’d lived in Maine her whole life. Like many things, she supposed that it should have been a comfort. She enjoyed the wintertime, but when she became too cold she found it at times to be inescapable.
“Never. You are so much more than that,” she offered a careful smile, “to me. To - well, to anyone I suppose, but especially to me.” It felt easier now, being open. Athena had always done her best to be as honest with Ariana as she possibly could, but with the knowledge that she didn’t have to worry about something getting back to her parents, despite everything else, the conversation felt easier, somehow. “I think that I’d sleep better in your bed.” She reached out, taking Ariana’s hand with her own, rubbing her thumb against the side of her hand. “I doubt I’ll be uncomfortable, but if you want to set something up out here too that’d be alright. I think I’d prefer to sleep knowing that you are right there, though.” She only hoped that she wouldn’t end up waking up screaming. Though Ariana would understand, and hopefully it wouldn't trouble her too much. “It is difficult to pinpoint. I - well, I’ve never had anything like this happen, so I can’t speak from experience, but what you say makes sense.” She gave a nod at Ariana’s mention of her brother. “Always there for me. Which is why I had to be there for him. I think it will do wonders for us both, but I understand. I won’t hesitate to switch things up, but I don’t think that’ll happen.” She nodded at Ariana’s remark, feeling grateful - not that she’d especially doubted her words but the confirmation was especially needed right now.
“Yes. Tape it off, investigate everything.” Would she ever be able to go back? She had so much at her house. She had almost all of her possessions. She couldn’t think about that right now. “Good. Good. I - well, I’m grateful.” Athena wrapped her hair around her fingers. “I don’t. I like cooking, so it doesn’t feel like I have to. You know, we could make some of those spicy green beans. Together.” A part of her wasn’t certain if she deserved Ariana’s kindness, if she was just being selfish in what she wanted. She pressed her hand against her mouth for a moment, a brief moment of panic seizing her. Focus. She could still smell the tea. She could feel Ariana’s legs pressed against hers. She could hear the faint shifting of the apartment. All houses did that, even nice ones. “Yeah. It makes more sense when you say it. I - even if I know that, I can’t bring myself to believe it always.” Right now she could focus on the present moment, she could ignore the world around her and just focus on Ariana. Her brother was safe, he had to be. For now. Her parents couldn’t hurt them. Ariana was alive. Ariana wasn’t going anywhere. “It’s okay if I don’t…” she blinked. “Even - I will…” I will be the same. If she closed her eyes she could see the same vision from her dream all those months ago. That dream with the fae, that dream with the fae and with a younger version of herself and her brother. Tied together, connected, all in their own world. They were like that again now, finally - she hoped. They would have confirmation soon, but right now she didn’t have to focus on that. Right now she could focus on Ariana, on the way her voice was soft and calming. On how soft her gaze was. Athena stood up, moving toward Ariana. “We will be safe here.”  Her gaze flicked toward the bedroom. “Just lead the way.”
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